During the holidays, I am offering gift certificates for remote shamanic healing session at a reduced fee of $95 – a savings of $40!
It’s a great time to give the gift of healing to a friend or family member (or yourself). And, in addition, whoever redeems the gift certificate is eligible to receive a free copy of my memoir Shaman Stone Soup, which includes 20 true-life stories of miracles (a $10.95 value).
To purchase a gift certificate, click here. Credit cards and paypal accepted. Offer ends December 31, 2017. Certificates do not expire.
Shaman Elizabeth Herrera
Energy depletion in a human being
by Jon Rappoport
September 10, 2017
As in: energy depletion.
Without energy, the individual feels trapped. In that state, he seeks to conform, fit in, survive long enough to die of old age.
Body and mind deploy various feedback mechanisms to inform a person about his “available supply of energy,” and when these signals are taken as absolute truth, trouble comes.
“I can sense my energy is dwindling. So I have to…settle for less, or see a doctor, or give up, or accept that I’m getting older, or change my values, or tune up a victim-story, or join a group, or…”
On and on it goes.
In this twilight zone, the individual is unwilling to consider solutions that could restore his vitality. He’s already opted for a lower level of life.
In particular, he’s unwilling to explore the one aspect of his capability…
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“…Death has been with you every moment of your life…You have survived thousands of deaths every day as your old thoughts, your old cells, your old emotions, and even your old identity passed away. Everyone is living in the afterlife right now. What is there to fear? When people wonder if the personality survives death, the answer is that personality doesn’t even survive while we are alive. We are not the same person we were five, ten, or fifteen years ago…Our personalities are constantly evolving, transforming, growing.” ~ Deepak Chopra, Life After Death: The Burden of Proof
In his book, Chopra mentioned that we can experience both happiness and sadness with the same welcome, because neither are real. This really hit home later while I was cooking dinner a wave of fruitlessness passed over me. As I focused on this emotion, I remembered that it wasn’t really ‘me’ and away it went. It was the first time I practiced non-attachment of my emotions and realized how freeing it could be.
So if I am not my personality, my body or my thoughts, who am I? While I believe that I am an eternal, perfect being—a lifetime of a changing body, events, and thoughts have made it nearly impossible to totally comprehend this belief.
I have tried to “find” my true self by meditating daily, losing myself to the love that flows through me. I know that this perception is much closer to the real me than my normal reality, but it’s still a limited experience, because it uses my senses. Chopra wrote, “Vedanta holds that consciousness is convinced by its own creations. Therefore, nothing we can see, hear, and touch, whether in waking, dreaming, or beyond both, is ultimately real. They represent shifting perspectives.” It is the illusion convincing itself of its own reality!
If this life is an illusion, then where do we really reside? We often think of our true selves going “somewhere” after we die, such as heaven or hell.
I had an experienced in October 2010, a few days after my mother passed, which helped me to see that we don’t go anywhere—it is only our perception that changes. The event took place at my mother’s workplace. I was in a meeting with my sister and the HR director who was going over our mother’s life insurance benefits, which had been split evenly between us. Then the HR director mentioned that my mother’s pension had been given solely to my sister. I immediately felt resentment, but I didn’t want to feel this way toward my sister, especially while I was grieving for my mother. So I asked the Spirit to take this painful emotion from me. It was then that I experienced my greatest miracle.
Here are the details taken from my book, Shaman Stone Soup: “After the meeting, we were taken to my mother’s cubicle to clean it out. I was emotionally distant from my sister as we emptied the drawers. I kept battling against the resentment that picked at me, and I asked the Spirit to take this thought from me.
Suddenly, my mother’s spirit descended over me. Her presence completely surrounded me and her vision became mine. Through my mother’s eyes, the whole world glowed with love and beams of light radiated from my sister. My mother’s memories filled my consciousness, and I could see my sister as the little girl, teenager and young woman she had raised. My mother saw her as an innocent daughter, who would be taken care of with the pension she had inherited. I felt the comfort that it gave my mother and the love she had for my sister.
Immediately, all resentment left me. I knew my mother had given the pension out of love, and as I experienced that love, it became impossible for me to feel anything else.
Then my mother was gone.”
Although I had never left the room, the dreary office space had transformed into golden light. My sister, the room and even the world, became faint outlines and love became the predominant vision. It made me realize that we don’t go someplace else to find ourselves. Love is all around us.
Death was not the end of my mother. She was able to communicate with me and send her love. The miracle had helped to show that we are all connected, whether we have a body or not.
Perhaps recognizing our true selves is taken in baby steps. Starting with a willingness to find it and asking for help from a higher source who sees beyond our illusion. We then begin receiving visions and experiences of pure love, which help us to develop a more “real” perception within this illusion, a step that allows us to ready ourselves for the final step into all-encompassing love.
In 2005, while working with the marketing director at Michigan State University College of Law to promote the college’s Indigenous Law Program, I met Asst. Professor Del Laverdure, the founding director of the program. At that time, he was the chief justice for the Crow Tribe Court of Appeals, and is now the deputy assistant secretary for the U.S. Department of the Interior Indian Affairs. The college’s law program was intended to attract Native American students to study indigenous law with the hope that they would return to their tribes and legally represent them. The tribes need lawyers to protect their lands, sacred grounds and cultural practices, and today’s battles are being fought in the courtrooms instead of battlefields.
After talking with Professor Del Laverdure, I was impressed with his demeanor and explanation of the Native American culture. This influenced me at a family gathering to ask my grandfather if he was Native American. He answered, “Yes,” but then he turned away. He didn’t want to talk about it.
Later in private, I asked my father about our heritage. This opened up a chapter about my ancestry that I never knew before. My father, who was raised by his grandparents, stated that his grandfather was a full-blood Apache. My father told stories of my great-grandfather’s adventures of smuggling sugar and flour from Mexico into Texas while being shot at by Texas Rangers. When I asked what he did when they shot at him, my father said, “He shot back!”
My great-grandfather had also worked in mines igniting dynamite—a dangerous vocation—and went back to live on the reservation for seven years. My father continued that he was the strongest man he ever knew. He could carry two logs, one over each shoulder, like a normal man might carry bags of feed.
Many people are familiar with the Native Americans’ plight of genocide, forced removal from their lands (estimated total of 93 million acres), and strategic killing of their food source, the buffalo. General Philip Sheridan is quoted as saying, “Let them kill, skin, and sell until the buffalo is exterminated, as it is the only way to bring lasting peace and allow civilization to advance.” (Ironically, the land where my father’s cousins lived across the road from his grandparents was bought and became a buffalo ranch.)
The tragedy continued with The Americanization of Native Americans assimilation effort by the United States to transform Native American culture to European-American culture between the years of 1790-1920. Native American children were forced into boarding schools, run by religious groups who taught them Christianity instead of their tribes’ spiritual customs, and banned from speaking their own language or dressing in native clothing in an effort to assimilate them. And until 1978, spiritual leaders ran the risk of jail time for practicing their rituals.
It is deplorable that our country has a history of genocide (and slavery), and that Native Americans are still forced to protect themselves against further encroachment by the U.S. government and private interests. It is also understandable why many Native Americans are distrustful and angry over these events, but are these feelings serving them?
Some might say that Native Americans are having the last laugh because of the money being made from the casinos; however, Native American gaming has also proven to be very ineffective in improving many tribal economies. Native Americans have the highest poverty and unemployment rates in the United States of America. And, when I think of the Native Americans’ former dignity and way of life, and their spiritual practices that connected them to nature, animals, and the skies, water and land, I can’t help but believe that all of us have been diminished by the cultural loss of these great people who once dominated this land.
How I would love to see the Native Americans forgive the trespasses of the past (and present), and open up their culture for all who feel compelled to join them.
Forgiveness isn’t easy, and Native Americans have received one of the hardest lessons in forgiveness that can be given, but the anger that is smoldering inside the tribes is robbing them of the beauty of their spiritual path—a path that could be restored through forgiveness.
Perhaps they feel that their rituals and spirituality are too great a gift to give away to outsiders. Yet, Native Americans have a resource for communicating with the Great Spirit through Native-American spirituality, also known as shamanism, Who can help them to forgive. Native Americans will not diminish themselves through forgiveness—quite the opposite. The act of forgiveness will be for themselves to let go of their anger, be at peace, and move forward with no resentment standing in the way of them knowing their true selves.
I ask them to open their hearts to the rest of the world. What greater impact could they have on their oppressors than to educate them about the Native Americans’ culture, spiritual practices, and respect for nature. People fear what they do not understand, but Native Americans can help those outside the tribes to better understand their way of life. I can’t think of a better outcome than to have everyone in this great nation practice, or at least understand, Native American spirituality.
One cannot deny the attraction that Native American spirituality holds for many people outside the tribes. Why should some tribes live in poverty, when they could accept love donations or charge for workshops, demonstrations and apprenticeships to help others become knowledgeable on their way of life. I realize many don’t feel it is proper to charge for teaching spiritual and cultural practices, but I think of it as charging for their time.
Does a Culture lose its culture by extending it to others or strengthen it? I believe they will strengthen it when they teach others, because they are reinforcing the message and its usage for themselves. This can also foster outside empathy for their ongoing efforts to preserve land, receive government monies and regain the rights to perform ceremonies that are still banned by the federal government because of the use of ceremonial plants, such as peyote. I don’t doubt that many Native Americans feel that it is sacrilege for someone to have few lessons and then try to teach rituals to others (such as the accidental sweat lodge deaths that occurred during a ceremony performed by self-help guru James Arthur Ray). To help prevent future misinformation and destructive incidences from occurring, the tribes can offer certifications that will help ensure that their rituals and teachings are performed with respect and knowledge.
We can expect a clash of cultures when the typical American’s mentality of “instant gratification” collides with an ancient belief system. So be it, we will learn from each other.
The Great Spirit is the voice of love. I can think of no better gift that Native Americans can give to others and themselves than to share that love with every living being, even the white man.
“You who were created by love like itself can hold no grievances and know your Self. To hold a grievance is to forget who you are. To hold a grievance is to see yourself as a body. To hold a grievance is to let the ego rule your mind and to condemn the body to death. Perhaps you do not yet fully realize just what holding grievances does to your mind. It seems to split you off from your Source and make you unlike Him. It makes you believe that He is like what you think you have become, for no one can conceive of his Creator as unlike himself.” ~ A Course in Miracles
If you ask a person diagnosed with schizophrenia if the spirits are real, they would say yes, despite these “episodes” being classified as hallucinations/delusions by Western mental health practitioners. But if you ask a traditional shaman, he or she would say that the schizophrenic is having real-life communication between the spirits and other dimensions.
The treatment of mental illness is only a hundred years old in the United States with most advances made in the 1920s. The current treatment for schizophrenia (with no cure) includes antipsychotic medications, which most patients hate to take because it dulls life and their connection to divine spirits.
Shamans believe that people who are labeled as schizophrenic are in fact spiritually gifted. Gifted because they have strong abilities to communicate with spirits. These people are in the midst of a spiritual awakening. Modern society does not offer a spiritual explanation for schizophrenia, repeatedly downplaying the reality of the schizophrenics’ experiences and medicating them to shut out the “hallucinations.” A shaman on the other hand would perform a healing to remove any negative entities that are attached to the person’s energetic body, set the intention for which spirits are allowed to interact with the person, then teach the person to shamanic journey where with the help of totem animals and spirit guides they can control how and when the spirits interact with them. Without an overload of negative energy and thoughts pouring into them, schizophrenics can use their gift to converse with loving spirits to provide healing and divination, instead of becoming overwhelmed by the negative entities whose constant bombardment of unloving thoughts induce manic, paranoid, delusional and violent behavior.
I wrote about such one such healing in my book, Shaman Stone Soup, which you can read at ElizabethMHerrera.com.
“…the sensitive would be given guidance by the shaman to walk in the world of spirit without coming to any harm. They recognized that there is more than one dimension where both light and dark beings reside. The lesson is to not stop the voices so much as work with them in a way that you are in the control seat rather than being controlled by the energies tormenting you.” SuccessfulSchizophrenia.org
- “In the shamanic view, mental illness signals ‘the birth of a healer,’ explains Malidoma Patrice Somé. Thus, mental disorders are spiritual emergencies, spiritual crises, and need to be regarded as such to aid the healer in being born… we in the West are not trained in how to deal or even taught to acknowledge the existence of psychic phenomena, the spiritual world. In fact, psychic abilities are denigrated. When energies from the spiritual world emerge in a Western psyche, that individual is completely unequipped to integrate them or even recognize what is happening.” — excerpt from the book The Natural Medicine Guide to Schizophrenia by Stephanie Marohn.
- The Shamanic View of Mental Illness
A shaman was once asked, “How do you know whether your shamanic journeys are real or just your imagination?” Her response was, “Is there a difference?”
I wonder if I wouldn’t be labeled “crazy” for seeing spirits and claiming to have healing powers, if it weren’t for millenniums of shamans before me, successfully helping their tribes to heal, find game and evoke favorable weather patterns. Most shamans are schizophrenic, yet don’t have the problems associated with it in our culture.
First, shamans and schizophrenics both:
- See spirits
- Hear voices
- Have claims of God speaking to them
- Believe they have the power of God/Great Spirit within them
Their differences are:
- Shamans can control when they see spirits (most of the time)
- The spirits don’t control the shaman
- Shamans don’t have episodes of being catatonic (they go into altered states intentionally)
- Shamans can differentiate between this realm and other realms
The main difference is control. A shaman learns to control the interaction between the him/herself and the spirits, and controls the transition between the realms.
Another difference is schizophrenics can’t control the negative entities’ voices that bombard them to the point of making them catatonic, manic or violent. I personally have dealt with negative entities, but as a shaman, I have spirit guides and totem animals to shield me. A schizophrenic is dealing with it alone.
If you are schizophrenic, consider learning how to shamanic journey. It can change your life!
Last year for the first time, I tried Ayahuasca. It was the worst night of my life! A deep contrast to many readers who commented that Aya was a godsend for them, offering insights and healing. So why was my experience so different? There were varying opinions. The most predominant comments were I should have had another shaman with me or that I should have surrendered my ego. Some felt that the dark entities attacked me as a light worker, and a few had a similar experience to mine. (For details, read The Dark Side of Ayahuasca.)
I was caught off guard by the energetic attack during my Aya trip, even though I had extensive experience “traveling” in the spirit realm dealing with negative entities and performing spirit depossessions, yet the archetype power of Aya had held me in her unrelenting grip until I literally thought I was going to die, but even worse than this, I had felt that I was losing my soul to a realm where I didn’t belong.
An insight came while reading the book True World History: Humanity’s Saga by Stewart Swerdlow, who in the 1970-80s was part of specific government mind-control experiments, including 13 years at the Montauk Project. During this time, he also had contact with participating aliens. In the book was a chart that showed how the current races of mankind descended from alien races. My heritage is a mixture of Spanish, Apache and Celt — all of these descended from the Atlantis race, a combination of Sirius A, Kilroti/Lion and Pleiades. On the other side of the chart was the Draco (Reptilian) lineage, whose hybrid offspring include Asia, Australia, South and Central American (Mayan, Aztec, Inca), and the Middle East. (See chart below.)
I thought back to how my Aya vision included Asian DJs orchestrating the world’s holographic matrix and a Geisha girl who appeared in an abstract painting, soon followed by a devil (Reptilian). Of course, native South American people were in the vision, along with jungle sights and sounds, but I couldn’t figure out the Asian influence… until now. Both the Asian and South American people are part of the Draco lineage. Aya has been used in South American for thousands of years, creating an archetype power. I am not part of the Draco lineage. I had entered a ceremony that I had no right to partake of. I was a party crasher. A foreigner in a strange land. At first, the archetype energy welcomed me, trying to recruit me, but when I resisted, I was attacked. Perhaps the same thing would have happened if someone from the Draco lineage had tried a Native American plant medicine, such as Peyote. I don’t know. I just know I wasn’t where I belonged.
I asked Stewart Swerdlow for his opinion and he said, “Aya seeks to open you up to the lower astral entities who can then possess and deceive you. It is very dangerous drug. The indigenous people only used it after many years of physical, mental, emotional, spiritual and psychic discipline. People who use this today don’t have a clue what they are doing. They are playing with fire. You don’t need drugs when you do Hyperspace/Oversoul techniques.”
By Robert Piper
When I was 18 years old, I suffered from anxiety and stomach problems. A compassionate physician and practicing Buddhist referred me to a Taoist monk who specialized in meditation and martial arts. I ended up healing myself of anxiety and stomach issues by doing meditation, and went on a great journey of self-discovery.
Here are 9 lessons I learned while studying with a monk:
1. Keep trying until you get it right.
The most important life lesson I learned was trying something three times (maybe even four times) before you stop trying and move on. Also, this monk taught me that, even after multiple tries, you should work on different angles to approach things that are difficult.
If you keep trying, you’ll eventually get where you’re going.
2. The answer to your question is inside of you.
As part of the original monastery training, a monk didn’t answer direct questions from a student unless it was a well thought-out question. A Chinese proverb says, “Teachers open the door, but you must enter by yourself.”
Some forms of Zen Buddhism use a very similar style of training. An old saying (by Taoist monks) goes like this: “In making a four corner table, the teacher shows the student how to make one corner. It’s the student’s job to figure out how to make the other three.”
They did this because they were preparing a student to deal effectively with problems in the real world.
I traveled to South Korea one time, and I found it fascinating how much you have to rely on your intuition when you don’t speak the native language of a country. I remember one instance, I had trouble explaining to the cab driver where my hotel was, and he didn’t speak English. So I had to get out of the cab and ask several people until I could find someone to tell the cab driver in Korean how to get to my hotel.
In life, whenever we try new things, we have to go into new places with only a small amount of information. The real world doesn’t give us all the answers. The greatest teacher is inside of us.
3. Real wisdom in life comes from doing something and failing.
Prior to starting meditation, I used to get upset when I’d try something and fail.
I’ve been in sales since I was sixteen. I remember going to work and getting so angry with myself because I didn’t get a sale. If I ever got rejected, I’d get upset with myself, and I’d want to quit my job. But I just keep failing over and over—until I became good at it.
I remember, when I first started doing meditation, I ran into several problems. For example, at first it was difficult to calm down; but if you stick with it, its gets easier and easier. I tried for only a few minutes, and then every day, I added more time onto my meditation.
When we struggle, we learn about ourselves and what we need to do to become stronger.
4. When you start to do meditation you recognize the egotistical mind.
Today, I saw UFO orbs circling a chemtrail above my house, zooming in and around it. It was hard to tell how many there were because they would disappear in the mist and reappear on the other side. I had read of UFO orbs disabling nuclear war heads and flying around military planes, but never “attacking” chemtrails. However, this is what they appeared to be doing. When I saw them, I felt hope that someone, anyone, was finally doing something about the toxic streams of chemicals being spread by airplanes around the globe (see links at the bottom of this post for more information on chemtrails).
These UFO orbs were meaningful to me, because two days ago I decided to give up feeling helpless about the man-made devastations taking place on our planet. Instead, I shamanic journeyed to ask for healing of our precious earth. I focused specifically on chemtrails, because, everyday while working on my computer near a window, I see planes spraying these trails of toxic chemicals, causing the sky to become hazy within a few hours as the chemtrails spread out.
Again this morning, I shamanic journeyed, but I also asked to see a miracle, so imagine my surprise a few hours later when I looked out the window and saw UFO orbs circling a recently sprayed chemtrail! For the first time, I knew something bigger than ourselves was helping to counteract those chemtrails filled with poisons, such as aluminum barium.
Then I thought, “What if each of use did the same thing — asked for healing of our planet on a regular basis?” Just think if all of us sent our love and gave permission for the toxic chemtrails, fracking, oil spills, inhumane farming, etc. to be healed. What would happen if thousands or even millions of people asked for a healing!? We wouldn’t have to wait on the selfish governments, which answer to the corporations and elite. WE could be the difference!
Here are links about chemtrails (geoengineering):
Gate A-4 By Naomi Shihab Nye:
Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement: “If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.” Well— one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing. “Help,” said the flight agent. “Talk to her . What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be late and she did this.”
I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke haltingly. “Shu-dow-a, shu-bid-uck, habibti? Stani schway, min fadlick, shu-bit-se-wee?” The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been cancelled entirely. She needed to be…
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While I respect the sacrifice of our soldiers, I am angered that so many of our young people are sent to fight wars under false pretenses. So I am asking anyone who is considering joining the armed forces to watch this video first, then make up your mind.
a novel I like
Everything that is, is, in some way, an integral part of the universe. Throughout history in every past that we know of, humans have been at odds with other humans. Recently, a lot of people are fed up with that.
I know, I was fed up with that. I wanted to discover a divine nature. I wanted to give up fighting and contrasting and find ways to connect and to share. I was entirely fed up with being against something.
Here is where I was when I picked up the story, The Earth Sentinels: The Storm Creators, by Shaman Elizabeth Herrera.
All of our being is part of all of being. Our struggles from all around the world are connected just as our joys in a moment with a few we love are globally and integrally connected to all that…
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My personal tale of using Ayahuasca for the first time to enhance my spiritual journey, but instead experienced the worst night of my life.
After a day at the beach, my husband drives me to a nearby residence where I will drink a concoction made from Ayahuasca, a vine from the Amazon jungle, combined with another plant containing DMT. Ayahuasca tea, also called yagé, is a psychedelic brew used by shamans and indigenous peoples in the Amazonian jungle to reach an altered state of consciousness, allowing them interact with the spirit realm. Many people claim that Ayahuasca has amazing healing powers; some tout that the experience is equal to 10 years of therapy in a single night. My personal goal is to heighten my spiritual connection to the divine.
We pull into the driveway and get out of the car. I carry the recommended “gear” of wet wipes, paper towels, sleeping bag, bottled water and a pail for vomiting. My friend and his girlfriend warmly greet us. After an hour of small talk, my husband leaves—he did not plan on participating, and the hosts worry that he might get overly concerned when I start throwing up, interrupting the experience.
The hosts spend an hour explaining what I should expect from Ayahuasca. They mention that geometrical codes might appear, and at some point I will need to surrender my ego to break through to the “other side” to meet the divine. The hosts tell me they’re giving me their greatest gift, and assure me that Ayahuasca has been life-changing for them.
We go outside to sit on the deck overlooking the inlet. Two small jars are placed on the balcony railing. I open the first jar and drink the reddish-brown liquid in one gulp. I had read that the concoction would be bitter, but it tastes more like a strong herbal tea. After 20 minutes, I drink from the other jar. It too goes down easily.
After a little while, my body heats up and I notice that my vision is flickering. I suggest that we go inside so I can lie down.
I lay on the couch, propped up by cushions. The hostess lays a crochet afghan over me. A transparent geometrical code appears across the room like a hologram. A booming sound begins. Part of the geometrical code bounces before shooting into my energetic body. I accept the code since I had read that the symbols were supposed to heal a person’s DNA. Everything seems to be going well.
The geometrical codes keep appearing, accompanied by the strange bass-like tones. Jungle sounds fill the room. I feel that Ayahuasca is sharing her heritage with me.
Interspersed between the geometrical codes, I hear snippets of voices issuing instructions, “Cue. Ready? Now!” and I wonder what is going on. It sounds like a TV production team is in the background orchestrating the event. It reminds me of the movie ‘The Truman Show’ starring Jim Carrey—the one where he was living in a TV show, but didn’t know it.
I catch a glimpse of the ‘producers’ who issued the instructions. They appear as four Asian people, stylishly dressed, wearing headsets while standing in front of audio/video equipment. I silently tell them, “I can see you! Hallucinations don’t work if I know they’re not real.”
The abstract painting on the wall changes into a portrait of a Geisha girl wearing a multi-colored robe.
I am sucked back into Ayahuasca’s realm, and a traditional Mayan mask appears, but I see a dark figure holding it, moving it around. The event seems contrived.
The geometrical codes kept coming nonstop, infusing into my body. I wonder if the force behind these codes is benevolent or malevolent. I ask for inspiring messages, but get none. I ask the force to send me love because while it might be able to shape-shift into deceptive images and sounds, it can’t fake love. I don’t feel any love, only darkness and a huge, empty void.
I am scared that the plant has exposed me to its dark side—the archetype power of black magic that has accumulated over thousands of years, or perhaps worse, the ultimate struggle between good and evil.
At this point, I ask it to stop, but the geometrical codes and sounds keep coming, over and over again, and the words, “Cue. Ready? Now!” ring out.
Another geometrical code appears.
Another geometrical code appears.
I shout in my mind, “NO! I invoke the Universal Law of Oneness and ask you to stop!” But the codes and sounds continue barraging me. Since I know the Divine Source never forces itself on anyone, I become convinced that dark forces are attacking me. I ask the Great Spirit for help. I call on my spirit guides and enlightened teacher, Jesus, for help.
It feels like I am dying. I have a fever and shiver uncontrollably. The hostess puts another blanket on me.
I listen to my heartbeat, which slows down, then eventually stops. I gasp for breath and my heart resumes beating.
The gentle Voice, the one I have heard throughout the years, says, “Drink your water.”
I take a sip, but it is extremely difficult to drink more than that.
The geometrical codes begin again. I invoke the Universal Law of Oneness, demanding that it stop. Finally, it does.
I ask Aya to remove all the codes already infused into me. The codes are forcefully extracted all at once. It’s painful and overwhelming. I begin to projectile vomit while silently screaming, “It’s all a lie!” over and over.
One of the hosts holds the bucket. The vomit seems to come from deep within my bowels. The same concoction that went down so smoothly is extremely bitter coming up. For the first time since this began, I have a glimpse of normal reality, but it flickers away quickly and I am again back in Aya’s grip.
Although the geometrical codes have stopped, Aya continues shooting sights and sounds at me—all with a dark, jungle backdrop. I offer everything that is appearing to the Great Spirit for healing. It has become a battle for the control of my mind. It takes extreme concentration on my part to stay conscious, and I am convinced that I must stay awake to win this battle, but it’s difficult because I am exhausted and sleep beckons me like a sultry seducer.
The gentle Voice reminds me to drink water. It takes considerable concentration and fortitude to down another bottle, which is followed by another round of projectile vomiting.
In my haze, I realize that my expectation of Ayahuasca being a fast-track to enlightenment was a mistake. I should not have expected a plant spirit to do the work for me. I hear the Voice say, “Everyone is already enlightened. You did not need to do anything.” I feel foolish.
Suddenly, I think of my husband. I have a vision of him, and see his spirit as my guardian angel. I urgently want him here with me. I mumble to one of the hosts, asking her to call my husband.
I go in and out of reality. It takes incredible focus and determination to resist merging with the dark forces. At this point, I am thankful for my experience with shamanic journeying and healing; otherwise, I would be at a loss on how to deal with this. I ask the hostess to turn on the lights. I am tired of the darkness.
I fall back under Aya’s spell. My father, who passed away ten months earlier, appears with dark entities dancing around him. He wears a green cloak made out of Ayahuasca leaves. He asks me to join him. It is a bittersweet moment because this is the first time I have ‘seen’ him since his death, but I believe the dark forces have shape-shifted into his form to trick me. I’m not sure, so I tell him, “If that really is you, I’m sorry because I won’t join the darkness.” He disappears into the black void.
“It’s all a lie!” blares through my mind, followed by another round of projectile vomiting.
My husband finally arrives, and sits on a nearby chair, trying to assess the situation. He sees me with wild hair, talking nonsense and holding a pail lined with vomit. He is rightly concerned.
I ask him to sit next to me because I need to feel his loving energy. The hosts leave the room to give us privacy.
I tell my husband that I never knew how much I loved him until now. This makes him happy.
I look around the house. The painting on the wall changes again. It displays a devil seducing a woman. I consider that a bad omen and want to leave, but I am unable to walk. I have to wait.
I babble on and on about what I am seeing in the other ‘reality.’ My husband listens patiently, but is visibly tense.
He escorts me to the bathroom. I go in by myself, balancing against the walls and sink countertop. I manage to sit on the toilet and urinate for the first time since ingesting the concoction—a positive sign. I wobble to the sink and wash my hands. I look at myself in the mirror. I don’t look as bad as I feel.
My husband is waiting for me when I open the door, and helps me back into the living room where I sit on the couch. I drink more water. A minute later, I throw up, but it’s less forceful this time.
I stare at the water bottle. The water sends me a vision. I see the ruined Fukushima nuclear plant dumping radioactive wastewater into the ocean, a pipeline leaking over the United States’ largest aquifer, and fracking machines pounding chemicals into water supply. The water tells me they are killing us by contaminating the water—another form of global genocide.
The Voice reminds me to drink more water and I do, grateful that it is unpolluted.
At one point, I tell my husband about the people who keep cueing the images and sounds. He asks who “they” are. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts. I answer, “They’re aliens who are in control of the Elite/New World Order, you know, the illuminati who control the secret government, which controls the corporations, which control the public governments.”
My husband doesn’t know how to respond and wants to leave since enough of the Ayahuasca has left my system that I am able to walk with help. He gathers my things and carries them to the car. I wait on the couch.
While he is outside, the hosts’ cat comes into the room. She sits in front of me and stares. I believe she is a fairy helping to balance the home’s energy. Her ears look like wings.
My husband returns and sits next to me. The cat stares at him, then walks closer. She sits up and puts her arm on the coffee table like a human would. My husband mentions that he has never seen a cat do that. I tell him the cat is fairy. He says it is time to leave.
It is now 1:30 a.m., and the hosts have long-since retreated to their bedroom. I text them to let them know I am leaving. My fingers stumbled over the keyboard. Autocorrect makes the message come together. I wait a minute. There is no response so I leave.
My husband escorts me outside. The warm breeze is refreshing. Arm in arm, we go down the stairs to the car.
He drives slowly back to the hotel. It feels so good to be back in this reality.
We pull into the hotel parking lot, which is full, forcing us to park on the other side. My husband holds my arm as I tottered across the pavement holding a bucket, looking like a bad drunk.
Back in the room, I’m afraid to fall asleep—afraid that I will be pulled back into that psychotic hell. I keep drinking water. I suspect that I have nodded off, but I am not sure. I go to the bathroom again, grateful to urinate more of the substance out of my body. This repeats every 40-60 minutes, leaving me with very little sleep.
The next morning I feel terrible. We drive to a restaurant down the street for breakfast. Our waitress comes to our table, warily looks at me and asks if I need coffee. I manage to eat, although I am nauseous. Little did I know that the nauseousness would continue for weeks!
Back home, I meditate everyday, but it isn’t until five days later that I feel my elusive connection to the Divine return. I am relieved when the loving energy flows through me, finally breaking through my barrier of fear.
During the meditation, I feel prompted to shamanic journey to ask for a healing for myself. A spirit guide and angels immediately greet me.
They perform an aura cleansing and remove my damaged energetic body, replacing it with a new one. As they burn the old ‘body,’ a black smoke rises and manifests into a dark entity, which tries to attach to my new energetic body. The angels prevent it, but the entity keeps trying. Finally, one of the angels seals the entity inside a jar, stating he will take it to another realm where the entity won’t be able to find me.
I return my attention to the spirit guide and remaining angels. I apologize for allowing myself to become vulnerable to the dark forces. They assure me that we all make mistakes and to forgive myself.
In hindsight, I should have meditated or prayed to ask whether Ayahuasca was right for me. And when I read that Ayahuasca is traditionally consumed at night, I should have realized that it might elicit spirits from the dark side. I went in expecting love and light, and instead journeyed to where the angels dare not tread.
Although it goes against popular opinion, I do not recommend Ayahuasca. I believe the risks are too great. I think its connection to the dark side is real, and that Ayahuasca is capable of producing images of “enlightenment” to entice people to ‘dance with the devil.’ Despite my belief that the dark force is an illusion, I know that all thoughts have power and are capable of trapping us within their archetype belief system—derailing us rather than helping us.
While I consider the Ayahuasca experience to be the worst night of my life, I have managed to glean several positive things from it. First, I came to realize how much I love my husband. Second, my meditation sessions seem more intense, probably because I appreciate the divine connection more than I ever did before. And finally, I am much more conscious of my thoughts, and focus on being in the present moment because that is the closest we can get to eternity within this marvelous and sometimes dark illusion called life.
For more insights, read the post The Ayahuasca Party Crasher.
Book reviewer, Merril Anil, has just written a glowing review of my novel, Earth Sentinels: The Storm Creators.
Book : Earth Sentinels : The storm Creators
Author : Shaman Elizabeth Herrera
Plot : Exploitation on nature are on its full course and its consequences are affecting the live of millions.Its time for some of them to put an end to this and make the world take notice of the atrocities they are doing on mother nature in name of development . Together they will become the EARTH SENTINELS and do anything in their power to protect their home, their land, our world.
First of all a huge hug and thanks to Shaman Elizabeth Herrera , the author, for sharing the copy of her book with me. But do not take this as the reason why I loved the book. Yes I m grateful for the copy but there are whole other reasons why I loved the book.
Earth sentinels definitely stands out for the…
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