Saturday, October 20, 2018

Maria & Matthias / La Vida De La Dona

Maria & Matthias
Part I = La Vida De La Dona

Dando y dando, palomita volando”  if you receive you must give,
comparte el amor

I will take flight as I grow with my wings of great integrity to share all I've learned with the world...
"Si querida."
"Que Papi?" Maria, laying on the grass, looked up toward Father...
"What will I learn, Papi?"
"Todo querida. Con Todo el cuerpo..."
For how long?
"Siempre. Por siempre..."
"And who will I share it with?"
She wonders and looks at Matthias.
So often she wondered of him, Matthias and their change...
He stood at the dock and
Wondered at the shore line of the coast that
Looked out into the great sea
Wondering of his home...
"Your greatest love."

And she longed for...
All that she left and was…
All she had known, wanted and who?
Alone...she longed for all she promised herself, those she dreamed of and still dream of...

Maria...Maria was her name, Maria Agatha... the Latin form of Mary taken from the Hebrew Miryām, a name under much  debate. Many believe it to mean "sea of bitterness" or "sea of sorrow", sources cite the alternative definitions of "rebellion," "wished-for child," and "mistress or lady of the sea." The name is borne in the Bible by the mother of Jesus, the son of God. It is not what she imagined and would not imagine the thought for years. Maria was just a young girl and the only male presence in her life was her father who could never entertain any sexual urge or thought to satisfy Maria. She was not even a woman yet but the presence of Matthias would begin to change those thoughts, make her see, make her aware of the woman present and call it to attention, call her to appear and wonder of her needs, desires and questions that would have been answered with the help of a mother who was never in her life.
Matthias... his name was Matthias, "gift from God," typically given to the much desired first born son of a Christian family. Matthias therefore usually has a healthy sense of self-worth, strong, independent and self-assured. Matthias' mother had become a Christian while her husband, The King, would lead his people in the war against Portugal, as she became the traitor, embraced Christianity, converting herself and the child and naming him as such to earn and satisfy her weaker religious needs.
Maria, born upon the death of her Mother, Don Lilo's wife, Agatha ..Maria never had the chance to caress her mothers breast. Suckle a toast to life from her mothers nipples, salute the abundance a child should expect, instead she found her own way. Loving her Father but needing a mother. Agatha died at the violent hands of strangers, pale white men invaders in Africa during the Portuguese occupation of Mombasa. Mombasa, where Matthias' Father, The King Ruled. It is where they both promised each other to care for the others current child. And it is why Lilo is recognizing Matthias' arrival. For Matthias would become King after his Father, the King of his home, a just man who was deceived by the Portuguese into giving away his peoples land.
Maria imagined she could see the coast of Africa across the sea from where she lived with her Father in Catania. Their home sat on the edge of a stream that flowed into the Mediterranean.
"Tell me again Father where he will be coming from?"
"Over the horizon, we can't see their home from here where he will be coming. The land he will be coming from is distraught. The Portuguese have landed and are taking their home from the people. Matthias will stay here until it is safe for him to go back. Until his Father the king and his mother can be found. Until then he will stay here with us."
All of Maria's Father's offerings to her, friendship with Matthias she cherished most though spoke the least about, to whom she would never pledge her love and instead waited too long.
"In a city deep in Africa. along with his people, he battles the Portuguese for control of the land he is king of."
"But if it's his land why are the Portuguese fighting for it."
"Because the Portuguese believe they can manage it better."
Maria looked back at her Father. "Matthias' Father must submit or battle for control. I've known the king many years."
“The world would in times of strife, help with the cost of influence whether invasive or persuasive changing your home because the world can and truly believes their way is the right way, and they violently force their way, insisting... out of fear that their way may not be the singular right way, their way enslaves you.”
"It is greed Maria. In a world where people often need help, a much stronger aggressor often becomes invasive in the effort to offer help and instead becomes the aggressor and uses the weaker to feed off."
"Yes feed. People who believe and feed off the weakness of others as nourishing...There are those who believe the guidance without question.

"The world angers me, Maria."
"Why Papi?"
“So few are satisfied with what they have to live the rest of their lives but always want more for the express purpose to oppress others who don’t have and never have had enough."
Don Lilo was often heard commenting with other statesman about the Portuguese interest in Africa, "we battle the white man to influence and control all of the other black influence.
Their friendship was established quickly, soon after Matthias' arrival from the near Mediterranean shores of Africa soon after they were introduced. Matthias traveled with his Mother away from what would become Kenya after the colonial period, his father a tribal King fighting the Portuguese.
Don Lilo's house sat along the river, so quiet a visitor would barely notice that it was occupied.
Old, unkempt, so loved and lived in, the house, a young woman given to laying about in the sun, by the pool waiting for her lover to be free. Maria and Matthias became the best of friends until they aged to include the thoughts of lovers... a matter of time until those thoughts bore fruit, set root and sprout quickly to become lovers.
Maria the love of innocence in sync with the innocence and love of a child in Matthias who would become a King yet the darkness of truth whirled in their heat, a wheel of fortune spinning with choice.
Regret, at so young an age, is regret unto oneself…one looks at how brief life is and regrets the unfortunate choices made as battles lost without ever having fought them…
I will learn so much from you...I will learn so much from you likewise and we both will learn so much from each other...
“Maria, baba yangu amekufa.”
“I’m sorry Matthias? Did you say? Your father - ”
“Yes, my father has died.”
“I’m sorry, Matthias.” She sat up, having laid down on the warm sunlit green grass.
Matthias, the dark haired, handsome Moor child, she’s grown so fond of, who stayed and Don Lilo adopted until he had grown into a young man, Matthias he was called by his family, so fond he was of Maria and knew for so long ago as she matured into a young woman, who amused her in youth, long before Baldo, never could...even though Matthias was looked upon as suspicious by so many. Maria noted his dark skin as others noted and became apparent to others who worried some without cause.
“When did he die?” Said Maria.
“A communique your father handed me, from my mother.”
“Your mother?”
“Really, your mother? She’s been found?”
“Yes, una carta. A note from my father before going into battle and another from my mother that she came out of hiding and found notes from my father letting my mother to whom he left me with and where. After that I was easy to find, but for the distance she traveled to find me was great. Did you know your father was a warrior, he fought along side my people, alongside my Father, Maasai Warriors for the Portuguese.”
“My mother angered my father by giving me a christian name in addition to a warrior name.”
“Then your father as a Somali Warrior must've had a warrior name. What is your warrior name?”
"My father did and I do. My father divulged it to me when I was very young, long before I understood the purpose and it's meaning. A small piece of paper he entrusted me not to show to anyone, even my mother but I want to show it to you."
"Yes Matthias  I love that you entrust me." She felt queer but refreshed. For as long as they had known each other, been together as friends, they were on the verge turning of mind to become adults and were sure they never would. They would always only be friends the rest of the way. War, death and family commitment would force them apart.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Of you? Yes."
"You will keep my secret."
"I will."
"My Father called me Simaloi."
Maria held the small note written in Swahili on a thin sheet of bark held close and carefully to her breast.
"What does it mean, Simaloi?"
"It means no matter how difficult my challenge is, I am capable of completing it by being exceptional, my quick wits and my tremendous adaptability to various powers. Which is why I am always needed! I have a special talent of coping with all hurdles that make me indispensable."
"I don't know much about my Mother, she died soon after I was born. My mother, Consuela was a distant cousin of your Father's." The weight of her sadness came washed over her again as it had so often before but knowing of Matthias' happiness...
"Matthias?" Maria looked up....
She had been laying on her blanket on the grass  and looked at Matthias...
“My father has died.” His voice had lowered to a whisper...In the few short years they knew each other, in those few short years.
Don Lilo cared for him, and Maria came to love him.
"My mother traveled far with her aides and she told me the sadness, far from our home, Abiba."
“It isn't so but I always imagined this was your home, I feel we came to be"
“I will miss you Matthias.”“I will miss you too Maria.”
...she longed for…
Her father, Don Lilo…the day before his death upon which he left her a trinket and a thought of defiance, “Dando y dando, palomita volando”...he sang as she danced roundabout his guidance...once he was everything to her but she never really knew him. And now there was only darkness…then Lilo gave way Matthias and they danced about in looming desire...
Matthias was already gone and age distanced them more. The world had changed and she sought more and looked where never expected.
They are a couple in love they became older and their love became real though unsure. She was fascinated by his physique and him with hers. Time limited, his mother coming get him.
From afar she could see him talked at a distance she could see him talking to his mother.
This is something both expected and dread.
Maria, she watched Matthias walk away, a kiss unkissed, a touch untouched, a desire or undesired...Matthias looked back as mother tugged...
Matthias was raised in the house of a Spaniard, in the arms of their love, he walked away from her, feeling her release she watched him as he walked, along the river bank away from the bridge and... as if he missed the crossing then walked up to the foot of the bridge, looked the length then looked back at Maria. She was going to be different, grow different, become important and it was time and though they didn't hear a call, it seemed they were, as if they were.
"Matthias, do you believe in God," she asked.
I dream of God and yearn to sleep when awake to open the caverns of God when I sleep. I know God is there but I can never find God. I love to talk about God. The mystery of God is that there is so much to know because there is so much mystery. Simply put, God has created us and yet we really don't know why.
Yes, God's presence is deep, almost unknowable, deep, but look often, look often and the walls will open, you will become aware.
Have you been there, to God's Caverns?
Not yet, but I dreamed that I had dreamed of them, one day, I will find my way there.
Tell me about the Caverns of God.
God is not a person, a being that you can categorize.
But the Cavern's?
God lives no where but is all over, to behold, to have a presence
For a moment she tried to imagine his thoughts.
I have been there Maria. Gods Caverns. How? But you say it can not be categorize, God has no home. But I have seen it. Not in a dream but not asleep but and expanse of being I don't understand but that I don't clearly.
Matthias, I didn't know that you were so aware of God.
He looked confused by her query.
True, you and I have never spoke of this but I have thought of God often. I spent many years as a child. I don't know when I started. One day I was aware of these thoughts. I talked to the Catholic priests and the Priests and wise men of our Tribe not so much to follow but to learn why. To know the purpose.
Come Matthias his mother called. It is time to go.
Maria watched from a distance, the child with his mother, they talked and she felt their loneliness invade, a darkness from without felt clouding her sight of him.
Don Lilo watched from an upper floor window as Matthias walked away. When they were gone Don Lilo walked to Maria seated by the pool.
"I will miss him father."
"I will miss him also, Maria."
"Why does he have to go."
"His mother needs a man for the house. For Matthias it is that time. He has become a man, that man needed to assume the duties of a man, a King, to carry on his father's wishes at which his mother will be come disappointed when he becomes a man and that King he must and not son she can't have."
"And why do you not need a woman?"
"Yes. Your mother. Your mother died, you know that. I decided that after your mother I would prefer to be without a woman. Maybe one day long from now, in a different place as different people and in a different way, you and Matthias will meet again."
"What way will that be, Father."
"Ese es el futuro, mi Palomita, no puedo decírtelo."
Maria relates her yearn her sadness for Matthias silently telling her father nothing about her feelings, her concern for Matthias.
Conversation among soldiers about the growing world... Not enough of the world no matter the shape for every animal, man, woman or child...

Wednesday, October 17, 2018

The Leap

What are they doing?
Its the transition betwen life and death…
Life and death?
No one ever dies… Just faith in themselves to leap and land…
Leap? Land where?
The other side.
The other side, of what?
That’s the faith part, know one really knows before they leap…

Just leap...

Transcending Boundaries: Identity and Oppression Within Psychedelic Culture - The Nexian

By VTSeeker48 on Wednesday, 26 November 2014, hits: 2120

"Psychedelics are illegal not because a loving government is concerned that you may jump out of a third story window. Psychedelics are illegal because they dissolve opinion structures and culturally laid down models of behaviour and information processing. They open you up to the possibility that everything you know is wrong."

"Part of what psychedelics do is they decondition you from cultural values. This is what makes it such a political hot potato. Since all culture is a kind of con game, the most dangerous candy you can hand out is one which causes people to start questioning the rules of the game."
--Terence Mckenna
The popularity of psychedelic experiences has skyrocketed in recent years with the advent of the internet and widespread acclaim of Ayahuasca and DMT. Transformational music festivals are spreading across the globe at an astonishing rate while breeding a unique and trendy sub-culture. As this neo-psychedelic culture evolves and grows, important questions are being raised.
With such an increasing demand for plant medicines around the world, we are seeing people profit off of the destruction of ecosystems and the defacement of beautiful plants simply so that Joe Shmo can order root bark online. How sustainable is psychedelic culture, and what steps can we take to ensure that these teachers are here for future generations to explore? With the incredible speed at which so called "conscious" music festivals are springing up, how can we create spaces that are both transformational and sustainable? Are these festivals even supposed to be sustainable in the first place, or are they simply big parties for people to get away from dominant culture? What is dominant culture anyways and how does it play out in the spaces we create? As psychedelics help us to transcend conditioned conceptualizations of identity and culture, how can we apply these realizations to our daily lives?
All of these are important questions that must be addressed by our community if we wish to see ourselves as having a legitimate role in the ongoing struggle for an autonomous and sustainable world. This said, most of the dialogue that I've seen taking place so far has been focused on the environmental implications of the psychedelic experience. As an environmentalist, I am absolutely ecstatic to see this happening. But even so, we live in an interdependent universe; no struggle is separate or more important than the collective human struggle for a peaceful and functional world. To quote Audre Lorde, a radical black feminist and civil rights activist, "There is no such thing as a single-issue struggle because we do not live single-issue lives."
So without disregarding the urgent need for an ecologically minded culture, I would like to make the point that the environmental issues that we face today are one in the same as the systems of racism, patriarchy, and classism that have come to dominate our lives, and that our efforts towards creating an all-inclusive and sustainable psychedelic revolution are moot points if we fail to recognize how entrenched we are in the dominant power structures of society.
I grew up in a small and rural state that is over 98% white folks. As a person of color, growing up in such a non-diverse state exposed me to the myriad of ways that white-supremacy continues to dominate our culture while remaining invisible to most white people. I was never very good at sports, but because of my African heritage it was expected of me. The fact that I was not good at playing basketball was a qualitatively "white" trait according to the other kids at school. I was constantly questioned for not speaking the way black people are "supposed" to speak, or dressing the way we're "supposed" to dress. Even my teachers seemed surprised that I was as academically competent as white students. There were about three or four black students I attended high school with, and the white kids would rank us according to who was the most black. My hair was a constant source of stress; white kids found it "exotic" and took it upon themselves to touch it, grope it, or stick pencils and other objects in it; things that if they did to a white student they would be punished for.Even before I ever experimented with cannabis or substances of any kind, it was a regular incidence that white students would approach me asking to buy drugs because they genuinely assumed I must use and sell drugs simply because of the color of my skin. The fact that I didn't take substances at the time was a surprise to people, like it was some sort of anomaly. I was tokenized by close friends for being their one black friend; as if I were an object one could own to prove that they weren't racist.
So why am I sharing this and what does it have to do with psychedelic culture? Well, growing up in the midst of all of this I did not recognize these things as white-supremacy. They bothered me but I just assumed that's the way things were and I didn't really ever question it; it never really struck me as blatant racism. I embraced anti-blackness and did all I could to appear white. I changed my hair and did all the same things the white kids did, and eventually came to unconsciously hate my blackness. I hated being a person of color, I hated having natty hair and I hated that I was too black for the white kids and too white for the blacks. I had internalized a lifetime of trauma and micro-aggressions against my race. As my education and experiences evolved and grew, I eventually came to start questioning these things and see them for what they are. But it wasn't until I took mushrooms for the first time, as a freshman in college, that I really began to come to terms with my identity and how the society in which we live had shaped it.
In those few short hours my entire life was turned upside down, inside out, and shot through a quantum tunnel. I came out the other side of that experience a new person. A new person no longer burdened by years of internalized oppression, completely at peace with who I am and for the first time excited about the person I could one day be. I remember that point during the trip where I was getting higher and higher, drowning in my consciousness and
soaring through the cosmos. I could feel myself breaking down, everything I ever knew was crumbling around me. I could feel myself dying, going to somewhere I knew I would never come back from. I eventually reached a place beyond all social conventions; beyond language and reason, a place outside of time and space, and void of any sense of self or identity. I was one with God, where everything and nothing came to merge in a beautiful non-dual paradox. Nothing there mattered. Everything simply was. Concepts of race, gender, and sexuality were beyond irrelevant; they simply didn't exist. This was the totality, the source, and the final destination of everyone and everything. Here all simply was; there was no equality because there was nothing to be equal to. Here everything was, and is, and forever shall be, one in the same.
That introductory experience shook me to the core. My initial instinct was the same as most; to get the hell out of the system. Drop out and pursue a life of meditation, psychedelic exploration, and unconditional love for all things. It wasn't too long before I realized that dropping out isn't a viable solution and I began to look for psychedelically-minded people in hopes that they had experienced what I just only gotten a glimpse of. I sold as much of my things as I could on Craigslist and took off for the West Coast in search of ultimate truth. I knew I had stumbled across perhaps the most profound experience a human being could ever have, and I knew in my heart that this was the cure-all the world had been waiting for. How could someone have such an experience and continue to be complacent, just another cog in the machine? Like so many others, I put my faith in God and sought out hippie culture where it seemed most prominent.
I was gravely disappointed by what was waiting for me on the other side of the country.
Where I had hoped to find open-minded and compassionate communities I found excessive over-indulgence, dogma, ignorance, racism, sexism, elitism, escapism, and a contempt for any perspective that didn't encourage eating as much LSD as you possibly could. It seemed that nearly every event I attended was swarming with privileged white folk who spent their money on culturally appropriated clothes, festival tickets, and drugs.
Where were all the colored people at? Well from what I observed, most of them were on the streets, working minimum wage service jobs, or incarcerated. Most black people I talked to didn't have an interest in psychedelics at all and associated them with rich white kids. Other activists I was able to connect with seemed to scoff at the notion of DMT being a profound catalyst for radical change. "Why smoke DMT" they said, "when you can spend your time closing down a factory or occupying a building? Why focus so much on personal liberation when you could be working to liberate others?"
At the time I didn't have any answers. All I knew is that psychedelics had provided me with an insight into the nature of things that motivated me to do everything in my power to make the world a better place. I couldn't understand why so few others seemed to recognize this. I couldn't grasp why almost everyone I met who took psychedelics was white and upper class, and why psychedelic culture seemed inaccessible to so many people. Why were working class people fighting amongst themselves for liberation when the most liberating of all experiences was a just a puff of vapor away? Why were all these so called neo-shamans just as racist and ignorant as the kids I went to high school with?
One thing I have learned through my continued psychedelic exploration is that there is no such thing as a cure-all. Psychedelics open a door to an entirely new way of experiencing and engaging with the world, but it is entirely up to us to walk through that door. Taking LSD or mushrooms might temporarily break down barriers and catapult us to a realm of ultimate understanding where things like race, gender, and sexuality are trivial at best; but unless we apply these lessons and work to educate ourselves after we have come down from the experience I'm afraid to say psychedelics might just be a big waste of time.
We are in the midst of one of the most turbulent and disturbing periods of Earth's history, though we still have the power to create a world in which we want to live—but we have to reach out and grab it, we cannot afford to sit and wait for it to come to us.
Groups of the radical left have the skills and education to organize, mobilize, and work for meaningful change in our communities; but the individuals who make up these groups are as entrenched in dominant culture as anyone else. One thing that a lot of groups struggle with, particularly environmentalists (which is a predominately white movement, despite the fact that people of color are most adversely and directly affected by climate change and ecological destruction), is carrying traumas and systemic forms of oppression into the group in which they are organizing. Being raised in a society that promotes, even requires, white-supremacy makes it difficult not to see racism trickle down into social movements. Groups such as Rising Tide North America and Earth First! are radical environmental groups which focus on challenging ecological genocide within the framework of industrialized capitalism. They recognize that the fight for clean air and water is the same as the fight for prison abolition, the same as the fight for women's rights; and they actively work to dismantle all of the ways in which oppression bleeds into the movement.
My argument is that the fight for the sanctioned use of psychedelic chemicals for self-exploration is just as important as any other struggle and could play a monumental role in effective and accessible social movements. What better a tool to use to overcome internalized racism than a chemical that temporarily breaks down virtually everything we thought we knew, that destroys boundaries and barriers, shatters social constructs, and reshapes our sense of self, our very identity? What could be more effective than that which allows us to actually see the ways in which the personal translates to the interpersonal, and vice-versa? Imagine how much more effectively we could organize if those in the radical movements of our generation were not separated by false dichotomies, if everyone had equal access to an experience which shows us that we are all reaching for one ultimate goal, that the labor movement is fighting the same system the environmentalists are, the feminists are engaged in the same struggle as the anti-racists, and the LGBTQ community has as much of a stake in the struggle as the curanderos in Latin America or the children of the Middle East.
So why is there this apparent separation between cultures? Radical organizing and psychedelic culture seem to be at odds with one another, but I believe we are fast approaching a point in time where these two separate cultures must merge and learn from one another or perish. How can we do this, what does it look like, and what are we waiting for?
I am no scholar, but I can pick up on patterns and it is increasingly apparent to me that psychedelic culture is bourgeoisie culture. "Conscious" music festivals which claim to be accessible and transparent are inherently pillars of the status-quo when they charge money to attend said events, automatically excluding huge groups of people. There is a reason that festival-goers are almost entirely white, upper class people. We cannot expect everyone to flock to DMT when those who advocate it completely fail to address how it resonates with the struggles of others and fall short in making it an experience that is accessible and safe for all people to participate in, not just those who can afford to buy it or extract it. Psychedelic gatherings need to be spaces where women, trans and queer folk, and people of color feel safe; where they can feel secure and empowered to heal themselves and the trauma they carry. I challenge the psychedelic community to make itself more available, to put forth the effort to learn about how we carry systemic oppression and violence with us even if we do not blatantly see it.
What could this look like? I think we are on the right track, and I think that the conversations taking place on the DMT-Nexus and at certain psychedelic gatherings (such as Boom 2014) are a step in the right direction, but we cannot lose sight of the ultimate goal. As suggested by the Nexus moderator Snozzleberry, I can envision psychedelic-minded people coming together to create an autonomous space for organizers and activists to retreat to when they are feeling burnt out, or even facilitating workshops and educational opportunities for folks to learn about entheogenic experiences. As a community we must make ourselves accessible. Otherwise, I'm afraid we are failing to see the forest through the trees.
As a person of color, I can honestly say I do not feel like I am welcome, or a part of, psychedelia and this deeply saddens me. It is truly heartbreaking to see such a beautiful and life-transforming experience roped off and made available exclusively for a select group of people.
I don't know what the solution is, and I doubt that there is just one answer. I believe that psychedelics have the capacity to truly revolutionize people and to empower those who are conditioned to believe they hold no power, or that they are inadequate and undeserving of love, compassion, and respect. I would one day like to see those who have been brutalized, hurt, and traumatized by our culture healed and inspired through psychedelic exploration; to reclaim the psychedelic experience as a universal human right and not a trippy past-time for the privileged few.
At the risk of sounding cliché, I'd like to end with a quote by the well known Ram Daas.
"Love is the most transformative medicine; for Love slowly transforms you into what psychedelics only get you to glimpse." --Ram Daas


# Sidestreet 2014-11-30 23:15
Thank you!

I used to make the mistake of thinking that the experience on its own is enough to transform the person. I thought that if I just ate enough of the right substance, my life would change forever merely because I got up the courage to dose heavy. Now I know that entheogens are more like ladders than catapults; you still have to make the effort and pull yourself up.

There seems to be a widespread gangster mentality among young heads. Maybe it's softer than other forms of organized crime, but I hear it's not that hard to get your ass beat, either. Then there's the exclusion. They may have legitimate concerns about undercovers and agents, but it seems like the wagons are just as quickly circled around superficial things like style.

Thanks for this article. Just by putting this sort of thing out there into the culture you inject inclusion and diversity. Be the change you wish to see and all that.
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# Serpentine 2014-12-02 22:31
Great article, very thought provoking. As someone who sees themselves as part of psychedelia i take this article to heart. I recognize the need for solutions to unite psychedelic culture, counter-culture and activist communities (gay/black/socialist/environmental/anti-religious/anti-war etc)
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# 2014-12-03 01:26
Hello! Wow...right on! Your grammar and vocabulary is stellar :) Everything was clearly well thought and presented. and,this is what I've been feeling all along.
I re-posted this article in a few places. I'm surprised there are not more comments. I live near Alex Grey's Chapel of Sacred Mirrors and, although I see his mission as in line with yours, I can't help but notice that the gathering seems to be a collective of upper-class Manhattanites. Many of the people I encountered their either came off as highly pretentious and cultish and\or did not have a respect for the medicine experience and were just looking to get drugs. This really saddened me. Because the real healing that can result from psychedelics largely has little to do with the medicines itself ,and everything to do with human transformation through recognition of the divinity in all of us, regardless of class,gender,race,etc
Kudos! Keep spreading love and truth.
hit me up
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# Hot 2 Trotsky 2014-12-04 21:08
'a chemical that temporarily breaks down virtually everything we thought we knew, that destroys boundaries and barriers, shatters social constructs' -including, of course, post-communist intersectionality theory. Just why is it, do you think, that the New Left split on the subject back in the '60s? Because it drains the dogmatism necessary for struggle.
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# LivingAnExaminedLife 2014-12-06 14:08
Thank you for your article; you raised important points and constructive concerns.

As a gay person it's surprised me at how few gay people I've met at psychedelic festivals or Ayahuasca ceremonies (LGBTI participants probably comprise only about 2-3% of the DMT/Ayahuasca community from what I've seen). Like Sidestreet said, I think by bringing these issues up, you help put them out in the open as aspects we need to collectively face up to, discuss, and actively address.

All I know how to do is act in ways that serve the greater good. I don't pay other people to kill animals for me because I won't kill myself; so I don't eat meat and try to avoid eggs and cheese. A veg diet reduces my resources footprint. I recycle almost every scrap of paper, plastic, metal and glass I can. I try to pick up a bit of *other people's* garbage/recycling when I'm in nature.
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# smile 2014-12-15 18:07
Great post, its funny how everything sounds here in Latin America, I truly understand your struggle, but what surrounds and make you feel as an outsider, are mental walls. You could as well as the majority of the people you are talking about, to engage on a psycodellic experience with out the permition of any club.
I dont want to spoil your text, i only want to add some hopeful and peaceful visions.
30 or 40 years ago dmt was imposle even for the most white.
Here in Colombia where ayahuasca has been part of our culture for centuries, only became pupular after the Americans wrote literature about the subject. So you can see how funny things are, the knowledge even about these matters has to go trough the dominator mind, before gets to the general public. My hope and message is, dont panick. Look how far information has spread about psycodellics, even medical centers are using them. So in no time is not going to be a snob thing.
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# greatdango 2014-12-20 03:07
Thank you writing this.
I'm a student struggling with career aspirations as well as the pressures of everyday life in southern U.S. What you say about identity and temporary barrier breaking becoming ritualistic regularity has mesmormized me. Your words have been mild motivation to trip more often and even more mindfully.
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