I had scheduled a 3-day dance workshop with the renowned 5rhythms teacher and UK-born shaman Kate Shela for the same weekend that I ended up devouring Ayahuasca plant medicine. I saw Shela 2 years before when I had the pleasure to reside in Brisbane and already had been hooked on this wonderful conscious movement meditation. Obviously, this time it had to be one or the other - the Aya ceremony once more and for the last time, or a workshop in Mullum which would be a pain to get to every morning and back in the evening…
Of course, the drive could have been manageable - everything is if we really, really, want it. Nevertheless, despite desiring a transformation, I got scared of the intense theme of the workshop - "Heartbeat”. The compulsory exercises to be done before showing up on the dance floor were: to produce a list of people we’ve loved and a drawing of our heart….
Did that alone compel me to sell my ticket? Or wtf was it? I see my chickening out as a silly, spiritually unconscious error. Missing out on potentially the 3 best days of my life was a sober decision and yet… quite a self-sabotaging one. Two years ago Shela’s event seemed life-changing.
Now I have my own interpretation of my past choices. Everything has its reason, the right timing and the right place, doesn’t it?
This is what I’ve found in my journal some time ago:
The transcribed dream from 1.8.2018 ( nearly a month prior to the
workshop)
The interpretation is easy now, and surprisingly heals my guilt.
With the workshop ticket, I had an opportunity to gain an insight into my heart’s deepest wisdom and access my intuition to see what actions to take to create a loving life for myself. Hence the indigo color - intuition - and a peacock design - new growth, birth, longevity, love and success seen in my dream.
The 'Heartbeat' workshop could have been a much pleasant experience, but it doesn't matter now. I might seek Kate Shela in another time and place - when I am ready to claim my heart whole once again.
Meanwhile, I enjoyed 5rhythms dance class yesterday. It was truly ’Sweat Your Prayers’ perfect. I became aware how precious those two hours are, we have received a gift from the founder Gabrielle Roth. Dancing is a prayer, and therefore, a way to salvation.
I may be a gypsy, having no roots.
I may wish to feel better, but things will never be more perfect than what I can make them right now.
As long as I’m dancing, there will always be a place of safety and healing for me.
There’s one more thing I have to do to make personal amends.
In April last year, I felt determined to queue for hours to receive the magical healing embrace of Amma, the so called Indian Mother Theresa.
She came to present her teachings not too far from where I lived in Brisbane. Sure, it signaled a long evening spent in a hall full of strangers, waiting for my turn to be hugged and transformed by her unconditional love and wise words. I was willing to do it - for the experience, no specific intention - at least, that’s how ‘determined’ I left my home.
I got there super early as I thought it would somehow make the hours roll around faster since my turn would come right at the beginning. But it didn’t. I came 3 hours too early. I wouldn’t be able to receive the token sooner than 90 minutes prior to the start of the ceremony.
I sat down on the stairs and began replying to texts from my new married friend, J.
I wanted to cut him off, prevent myself from falling for him, but I couldn’t get over our emotional connection. His melancholic texts saddened me and I longed to see him again.
I turned around at once, steady in my decision that receiving a hug from a real man would make my day better than a mythical love from a female Guru who’d be off to her Ashram in India soon after.
Once again I gave in to my impatience and impulsiveness where I cannot see anything beyond immediate gratification.
That evening J. and I slept together for the first time and it was possibly the best sex I’ve ever had (even with J. himself, he’s never lived up to that 2-hour expectation again).
Of course, he was off to his family after the deed, as well as Amma would have travelled back to hers after the Australian tour. Was dating a married man for the next few months worth missing out on a potentially heart-healing, all transforming experience with long-term benefits?
No.
It wasn’t until Darwin several months later, when my stupidity downed on me. I read a story from Arielle Ford about how her husband came into her life.
She embraced Amma, she whispered to her what she wanted, then within 6 months - she received it.
Of course, the drive could have been manageable - everything is if we really, really, want it. Nevertheless, despite desiring a transformation, I got scared of the intense theme of the workshop - "Heartbeat”. The compulsory exercises to be done before showing up on the dance floor were: to produce a list of people we’ve loved and a drawing of our heart….
Did that alone compel me to sell my ticket? Or wtf was it? I see my chickening out as a silly, spiritually unconscious error. Missing out on potentially the 3 best days of my life was a sober decision and yet… quite a self-sabotaging one. Two years ago Shela’s event seemed life-changing.
Now I have my own interpretation of my past choices. Everything has its reason, the right timing and the right place, doesn’t it?
This is what I’ve found in my journal some time ago:
The transcribed dream from 1.8.2018 ( nearly a month prior to the
workshop)
“Having Kate Shella sewing a magnificent indigo peacock[like] long flowing dress for me…then I gave it to someone else; was flying like a bird, and came to her [again] to sew me a new one. Green one. “
The interpretation is easy now, and surprisingly heals my guilt.
With the workshop ticket, I had an opportunity to gain an insight into my heart’s deepest wisdom and access my intuition to see what actions to take to create a loving life for myself. Hence the indigo color - intuition - and a peacock design - new growth, birth, longevity, love and success seen in my dream.
I changed my mind though- I gave the dress (the Kate Shela tickets) to someone else…
I resigned in real life.
In the dream, however, I decided to come back to her and ask for a new dress. The new one was shorter, sexier and green - the color of the heart and healing…
I am still healing my heart. Not because of specific breakups, not because of fearing future betrayals, rejections, and disappointments (that may be a given), but possibly because of fearing my own unlovability. I’ve lived this as true all my life and those unconscious beliefs have brought a lot of misery, closing off, distrust in men, and most of all - stopped me from believing that true love was waiting for me, or could ever happen to someone like me. How could I ever feel worthy of having a loving relationship with a male soulmate?
My sense of worth, phew, where is such a thing?
What Kate Shela gave me instead could have been the Ayahuasca ceremony. Only too late, I have found out that the Byron Shaman mixed up the concoction with a little bit of Bobinsana - another supposed heart-opener. How did the plant plan on opening my heart amidst all the terror and misery, which I experienced during that fatal Saturday night, is still a mystery to me.
I do have my own theory though.
You might have read here: Ayahuasca, here we go again
During the trip on this powerful hallucinogenic, I found a Godless place where no one has lived except weird creatures and shadows on a quest of deconstructing my mind, body, nervous system and beliefs. My soul kept waiting for the hallucinating to be over. I tried to communicate with God, I tried to pray for an insight so the images I kept seeing would bring me some understanding and peace, but I felt utterly alone and helpless. God was not there. I thought that the sense of lostness would leave along with the medicine gotten metabolized by my body. But hours turned into days… I’ve never felt more ‘unprotected’. Even though the medicine told me I was safe the very first time I drunk it, I couldn’t see/feel how that was true… nor my daily meditations provided any answers. 3 days later (how symbolic), I read something about surrender; I read how people prayed for healing and God’s help in strengthening the will. Also, my sister happened to send me some
quotes from the gospels.
I came home one evening, dropped down onto my knees and began praying until I’d find God again.
Tears came streaming down my face…
Indeed, in a loveless, dark and clueless space, there is no God. That is a thriving space only for our mind that likes to play tricks on us.
The moment we’ll open the door to something external, salvation comes in in the form of divine support - which I choose to call God. That sense of being loved, connected and surrendered brings power to raise our vibration to joy, trust, love and banishes all feelings of separation.
It confirmed to me what Marianne Williamson or Gabriella Bernstein once said: that we can either learn through love or learn through fear. The final lesson is still the same, just a different delivery.
I resigned in real life.
In the dream, however, I decided to come back to her and ask for a new dress. The new one was shorter, sexier and green - the color of the heart and healing…
I am still healing my heart. Not because of specific breakups, not because of fearing future betrayals, rejections, and disappointments (that may be a given), but possibly because of fearing my own unlovability. I’ve lived this as true all my life and those unconscious beliefs have brought a lot of misery, closing off, distrust in men, and most of all - stopped me from believing that true love was waiting for me, or could ever happen to someone like me. How could I ever feel worthy of having a loving relationship with a male soulmate?
My sense of worth, phew, where is such a thing?
What Kate Shela gave me instead could have been the Ayahuasca ceremony. Only too late, I have found out that the Byron Shaman mixed up the concoction with a little bit of Bobinsana - another supposed heart-opener. How did the plant plan on opening my heart amidst all the terror and misery, which I experienced during that fatal Saturday night, is still a mystery to me.
I do have my own theory though.
You might have read here: Ayahuasca, here we go again
During the trip on this powerful hallucinogenic, I found a Godless place where no one has lived except weird creatures and shadows on a quest of deconstructing my mind, body, nervous system and beliefs. My soul kept waiting for the hallucinating to be over. I tried to communicate with God, I tried to pray for an insight so the images I kept seeing would bring me some understanding and peace, but I felt utterly alone and helpless. God was not there. I thought that the sense of lostness would leave along with the medicine gotten metabolized by my body. But hours turned into days… I’ve never felt more ‘unprotected’. Even though the medicine told me I was safe the very first time I drunk it, I couldn’t see/feel how that was true… nor my daily meditations provided any answers. 3 days later (how symbolic), I read something about surrender; I read how people prayed for healing and God’s help in strengthening the will. Also, my sister happened to send me some
quotes from the gospels.
I came home one evening, dropped down onto my knees and began praying until I’d find God again.
Tears came streaming down my face…
Indeed, in a loveless, dark and clueless space, there is no God. That is a thriving space only for our mind that likes to play tricks on us.
The moment we’ll open the door to something external, salvation comes in in the form of divine support - which I choose to call God. That sense of being loved, connected and surrendered brings power to raise our vibration to joy, trust, love and banishes all feelings of separation.
It confirmed to me what Marianne Williamson or Gabriella Bernstein once said: that we can either learn through love or learn through fear. The final lesson is still the same, just a different delivery.
Ayahuasca gave me a lesson in fear.
God gave the same in love.
I need to choose love, let go off the struggle, and keep choosing learning through love.
I need to choose love, let go off the struggle, and keep choosing learning through love.
The 'Heartbeat' workshop could have been a much pleasant experience, but it doesn't matter now. I might seek Kate Shela in another time and place - when I am ready to claim my heart whole once again.
Meanwhile, I enjoyed 5rhythms dance class yesterday. It was truly ’Sweat Your Prayers’ perfect. I became aware how precious those two hours are, we have received a gift from the founder Gabrielle Roth. Dancing is a prayer, and therefore, a way to salvation.
I may be a gypsy, having no roots.
I may wish to feel better, but things will never be more perfect than what I can make them right now.
As long as I’m dancing, there will always be a place of safety and healing for me.
There’s one more thing I have to do to make personal amends.
In April last year, I felt determined to queue for hours to receive the magical healing embrace of Amma, the so called Indian Mother Theresa.
She came to present her teachings not too far from where I lived in Brisbane. Sure, it signaled a long evening spent in a hall full of strangers, waiting for my turn to be hugged and transformed by her unconditional love and wise words. I was willing to do it - for the experience, no specific intention - at least, that’s how ‘determined’ I left my home.
I got there super early as I thought it would somehow make the hours roll around faster since my turn would come right at the beginning. But it didn’t. I came 3 hours too early. I wouldn’t be able to receive the token sooner than 90 minutes prior to the start of the ceremony.
I sat down on the stairs and began replying to texts from my new married friend, J.
I wanted to cut him off, prevent myself from falling for him, but I couldn’t get over our emotional connection. His melancholic texts saddened me and I longed to see him again.
I turned around at once, steady in my decision that receiving a hug from a real man would make my day better than a mythical love from a female Guru who’d be off to her Ashram in India soon after.
Once again I gave in to my impatience and impulsiveness where I cannot see anything beyond immediate gratification.
That evening J. and I slept together for the first time and it was possibly the best sex I’ve ever had (even with J. himself, he’s never lived up to that 2-hour expectation again).
Of course, he was off to his family after the deed, as well as Amma would have travelled back to hers after the Australian tour. Was dating a married man for the next few months worth missing out on a potentially heart-healing, all transforming experience with long-term benefits?
No.
It wasn’t until Darwin several months later, when my stupidity downed on me. I read a story from Arielle Ford about how her husband came into her life.
She embraced Amma, she whispered to her what she wanted, then within 6 months - she received it.
My itinerary:
Darwin - Bali - Frankfurt ——> volunteering during the entire Amma’s program in Brombachtel 2.10-4.10.
Then making my way to the neighboring country - home, sweet home...
I decided; therefore, I am making it happen.
Darwin - Bali - Frankfurt ——> volunteering during the entire Amma’s program in Brombachtel 2.10-4.10.
Then making my way to the neighboring country - home, sweet home...
I decided; therefore, I am making it happen.
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