światosław / tales from the world

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sweat as medicine

November 7th, 2019



Foundation myths of a culture tell a lot about its approach to fundamental issues of human life. Eating from Tree of Knowledge being a sin in eyes of jealous god, projection of priestly caste and rulers needing religion as tool of social control is well known example, another is work as punishment.

Judeo-christian perspective of paradise as some distant, lost place before and after, without burden of obligations and work not only can be read as longing of sedentary, agricultural civilization for times of free roaming nomads, gathering what they need from abundant garden of nature, but is also conveniently fitting in modern capitalist economy, with its obsession of mechanization, taking away more and more tasks from human consumer, in theory to make his life easier and happier, in practice fulfilling need only to create another, placing him in constant bipolar struggle between workaholism despite abundance already present, and idle emptiness in wealth and depression. It echoes in Warren Buffet´s saying that if you don’t find a way to earn in your sleep, you will be working until the end of your life.

And WTF is wrong with that?

Isn´t that approach, that work is means to a final end, result, redemption in vacation or wealthy retirement, corresponding with Christian approach to life, that the reward will come when we do the necessary work, some time later, so we have to face that dull hell of the present? Focus on destination, not the way, on prize rather than the game itself, is a source of perpetual unfulfillment and unhappiness. We created that exile ourselves, not angry Jehovah, not by being forced do the work, but by our minds taking over, with their worrying and preoccupation with future, and distorting image of present moment, including possible beauty of effort itself.

When we chop the wood, preparing it for the ceremony that comes in the evening, it is not that this sweating is something to be hated, and state of bliss after drinking ayahuasca something to be waited for and loved, because we fixed ourselves on the idea that this is ceremony, this is celebration time, sacred time, while the preparation, menial work is mundane and necessary. Chopping wood IS the ceremony, as much as burning palo santo or singing icaros.
Same logic can be applied to any activity. When you cook, you should not see that as a chore, necessary to satisfy yourself with gorging later. Etc, etc, but I should conclude with important : we heard the phrase, do what you love, and you will never work a day in your life. But that not only means, find your bliss, and become a windsurfing instructor.

It means : love everything



From the perspective of working within an old, non Western tradition of healing, what limitation and potential problem can be seen in new, so called “psychedelic renaissance” happening in the West? It is perhaps hard to convey with words, because it is precisely about words and intellect. In our opinion one can not effectively break the prison created in modern society by hegemony of mind, using tools and approach that to such extent favours the mind, the logical and disregards in worst case, or in best, is not very skilled in dealing with emotion, vibration, and much less with what is awkwardly labeled supernatural or spiritual.


The very idea that so called psychedelic substances are best ( or only ) to be used in clinical setting, by people with years of intellectual, university preparation, to help “patients” blocked in their development by dominant mind ( which is clear in issues such as depression ) seems only paradox when watched from outside of that paradigm. The mind and its relative, language, creates our world, so it is only natural that one living within it, knows no better. However, when then this way of seeing and working is projected upon the Other, who does have an alternative, which could perhaps be a way of salvation, there is a risk that this very alternative will be disregarded and destroyed.


Shaman blowing tobacco smoke on patient’s head can be only accepted as cultural relic, ancient practice that civilized people learned to respect ( very recently actually ) but would rather have delegated to museum unless it can be rationally A) understood B) proven C) explained in words/literature , all requisites of mind paradigm.


Of course, value of some non verbal “aides” to healing process slowly starts to be recognized, when intuition is given a bit of humble space, some plants will be placed in clinical setting, sometimes incense lit, young assistant to the professor will be permitted to choose playlist to play through patient’s headphones. These efforts are rather considered secondary improvement to the main structure, which is composed of authority of university degree, therapeutic tool of words and belonging of “clinical setting” to whole modern knowledge edifice.


From perspective of organic, traditional plant medicine systems this is kindergarten play. Good that these experiments are taking place, but very arrogant when those who are just beginning to get off their head and stand on their feet are looking down on the very foundation.


That foundation is somatic. It is emotional. It is, do not be afraid of this, spiritual. Intellectual understanding is just a cherry on top, it should be the addition, not other way around. But what is the biggest obstacle from being so? Impossibility of standarisation and so commercialization of both that non verbal knowledge and healing styles. Our civilization is, at least since spread of print, so much based on knowledge stadarized into small bits, that can be repeated, passed on a mass scale from mind to mind, that it simply does not want to see alternative, or perhaps sees it as shameful relic of pre-modern past.

This attitude is replicated in ways of modern medicine, if something can not be replicated in standarized bits, be it repeatable dose of chemically verifiable drug ( hence the psychedelic renaissance interest in MDMA rather than rough jungle formulas ) or standarized treatment procedures, to be taught in medical schools and books, it remains on the fringe – rather than essence it truly is :

somatic, sensual, magical experience of here and now, lacking rigidness of both religion it sometimes decays into, or fundamentalism of science, religion of urbanized societies; an ancient ART – art back from being lost in wastelands of ego, back to its primary function of making whole – HEALING.



“Taussig wrote that the perception of the shaman as the creator of order from chaos mirrors the romantic notions of the Western imagination rather than the reality of shamanism. The anthropologist pointed out that the very talk about the shamans’ mystical trips to the heavenly spheres and their organic unity with their tribes is an example of a ‘‘fascist fascination.’’ This is clearly a reference to the scholarship and intellectual background of Eliade, the classic scholar of shamanism studies, who paid tribute to nationalist soil ideology during his early years. The anthropologist simultaneously took on those of his colleagues who associate order with good and disorder with evil. Taussig saw in the anarchy and disorder of Amazon ayahuasca spiritual sessions a helpful antidote to the Western ‘‘fascist’’ order, which is rooted in the European Enlightenment with its logic, rationalism, and discipline. According to Taussig, in this spiritual anarchy lies the liberation potential of shamanic sessions. If we are to believe the anthropologist, one of the Putumayo shamans he met directly pointed out to him, ‘‘I have been teaching people revolution through my work with plants.’’



“Taussig pisał, że postrzeganie szamana jako tworzącego porządek z chaosu jest odbiciem romantycznych koncepcji z zachodniej wyobraźni a nie rzeczywistości szamanizmu. Antropolog wskazywał, iż samo gadanie o mistycznych podróżach szamanów do niebiańskich sfer i ich organicznej jedności ze swoim plemieniem to przykład “faszystowskiej fascynacji”. To jasna aluzja do prac i intelektualnych korzeni Eliade, klasycznego badacza szamanizmu, który oddawał hołd nacjonalistycznej ideologii ziemi podczas swoich wczesnych lat. Antropolog jednocześnie uderza w swoich kolegów, którzy łączą porządek z dobrem i chaos ze złem. Taussig w anarchii i chaosie ayahuaskowych duchowych sesji widział przydatne antidotum do zachodniego “faszystowskiego” porządku, zakorzenionego w europejskim Oświeceniu, ze swoją logiką, racjonalizmem i dyscypliną. Według Taussiga, to w duchowej anarchii leży wyzwalający potencjał szamańskich sesji. Jeżeli mamy mu wierzyć, usłyszał te słowa bezpośrednio od jednego z szamanów z Putumayo : “Poprzez swoją pracę z roślinami uczę ludzi rewolucji”.


[ "The Beauty of the Primitive. Shamanism and the Western Imagination", Andrei A. Znamenski ]





There has been a lot of doubts on my path recently. About choices, about effectiveness. We left the jungle to see, after a year of sedentary lifestyle, if road will bring solutions. Less control for sure, that ever relapsing disease. Surprise, opening to something new. After continuosly working with Shipibos for such a long time I needed to step out of this beautiful but narrow format, to be able to open more again to intuition, less to tradition and routine. Routine, killer of joy, didn’t reward me in exchange with some extraordinary technique improvements, so I decided this ain’t a fair deal.

So we arrived in the mountains, into fairy land, some call it happy gringo bubble, but this time I came more mature, not as a seeker of illusionary unknown and rare, not as explorer who needs to go, with this characteristic modern western obsession, where “no one” has gone before, but as someone who acknowledges that he is a gringo and just wants to live. So free from internal obligation to produce images ( freed, in some extent, by their excess today, as well as eyes that are not of a young man any more, these small things that help to naturally shape fate, in the face of indecisiveness and hard letting go ), I was able to land in the Sacred Valley as in a substitute of home I am barred from. There is entertainment, there is more choice of food, more diverse characters to meet. Perhaps not so many as in London or Warsaw, but that is even better, not to go so straight from hermitage into supermarket. People are calmer and nicer than in my homeland, and so is the weather. Place to enjoy, to live. But of course as an addict of action, I decided to use the opportunity to continue a bit the photo / guide project, and when I saw post about ceremony with William Koroskenyi, a gringo healer I already heard about in Iquitos, I wrote to him. This was also symbolic, to break my time with the indigenous culture by drinking with a foreigner, as if I were back in the good old Europe. I came with the intention of being once again a documentalist, but shitty low light in the place and great medicine both ruled that my input and my experience will be of a different kind. So there are no great images here, perhaps, but the experience was a great one, and that is perhaps more important and another sign about the path to follow.





To drink in the mountains is a whole different game than in the jungle. In some ways, more challenging, as ayahuasca doesn’t really like the cold, but people not used to heat and mosquitos appreciate cold air one can sip when things become to dense inside. For me this cold breeze is also refreshing these days and brings back the scent of first ceremonies on the other side of great ocean. It feels fresh, it feels clean. I don’t think of sneaky spirits of the jungle, of devils and brujeria, I think about fast brother wind, that always was close to my soul. Sacred Valley is all about “hanan”, the high world, the Father Sky, condor and flight rather than snake and chtonic ambiguity of the lowland forest. I was always rather weary of these upward gazes, feeling they often conceal unresolved issues, smelling of priests, of religion, be it our own pious men in black, spiritual functionaries of Inca empires, or any other men of the high pulpit. I have always liked the doubt, the trickster, but trickster teaches the value of change, and I have grown weary of my doubts. So when I step into the maloca for ceremony with William, I don’t think it is a coincidence that I am walking the tree of life, from the trial of fire and snakes, towards the higher realm.






William works together with his partner Pamela. He has been studying Amazonian shamanism for years now, very thorough but also open to intuition, to being guided by plants and experience itself, rather than only dogma of the culture. Pamela seems to be more of a fusion of different healing modalities, of feeling, flow, touch and direct contact with people. William creates the space, the steady rhytm, upon which others can experiment, open up, and Pamela sneaks around with her energy. They complement each other in the performance, but more important perhaps, show the integration of this medicine, so necessary in this world of many gurus who claim to love the whole world because they are unable to hold balanced relationship with their nearest person.








There is a lot of setting up the space. Preparation, grounding, talking, explanation. Cleansing and calming.  Step by step, with no hurry, with all and each and every one in proper order. It builds the climax, it prolongs the session, it gives it added value, regardless of our belief about actual value of certain gestures, such as tobacco sopladas. This is good inspiration for me, often carried away by my impatience, by inner fire, dismissing the uncessary.  Ceremonial structure can teach about that – we can either slowly dismiss everything as superflous, superstition, just take our psychedelics with Brian Eno’s smartphone app and in doing so discard all tradition, all need for human presence and interaction. But by doing so we desacralize all world, bring everything down to utility and end up in the same loneliness and despair we tried to escape in the first place with aid of plant medicines. Yes, it is cheaper, maybe even faster to do our shopping in cashierless supermarket, but I enjoy wasting time with campesinas in mercado of Pisac. Yes, I could just get my potent brew online and drink it with unlimited diversity of Spotify soundtrack, doing away with mapacho smoke, but I want to feel William’s breath in the palms of my  hand. I want everything to have meaning. To appreciate. To live for the process, rather than just the outcome.







Not only with chill of nature around us I am closing sentimental loop to my first ceremony ever. Since we came from the jungle my sinus is blocked again, eternal problem since early colds of my youth. It subsided in the tropics, but here it is again, justifying ceremonial rape, medicine that likes a good reason for its use, and without it can easily turn into another mindless habit. A round is served, and we are ready to start.





Brew was very tasty, rare thing, but not impossible, when one knows how to cook. Mostly chacruna providing light, but some huambissa too, which I could feel, it is always more physical/medicinal in my experience. The first cup, full one, started coming up strong,  I purged, apparently trying to avoid harder work, and of course then regretted it as I sat just listening to icaros, feeling a little buzz. I was in a different position however then during most ceremonies of last year, when I had been in charge of the show and somehow responsible for it, this time as a guest I could really accept whatever happens. When the time for second round came, I was of course one of the few to take it.

William sings classical ribereno style, mestizo Spanish icaros, with rich, deep voice, long, stable, he walks around with his chakapa, sometimes sits down with a particular person. Pamela is more random, less predictable, her songs can go through different, sometimes unpleasant, sometimes touching, freaky registers, which for me is always more inspiring, closer to the primitive, improvised shamanism, far from mind and memory, closer to the moment. They asked in the beginning to keep silent, not to join them, which was a good lesson of patience and somehow allowed me to save breath for a right moment, when it came. Out of difficult time, as usually, out of sickness and crisis comes the best singing, always been like this, almost as if this was to teach something about paradoxes of life. And these icaros are from gift from the source, rare time when my plans disappear and my mind takes a back seat. It was a release I have been waiting for a long time, maybe even months of routine and rising feeling of resignation and pointlessness. It was also a powerful lesson in gratitude, some hints about healing with it my greed, all these things I know from my path, all these humble-yourself-and-jah-jah will-guide-I, that I keep losing, in my hunger for more. Make amends, ask little, and the right times return, in fact they are here already, just wake up to it, Mundo.







There are challenges ahead, but this kind of ceremonies gives strength to continue. Giving thanks, not only to the captains, but to all the crew who participated, co-created, even just by their presence, more so by kind words, smiles, gratitude. It all builds the house we want to live in.


The spirit is back.






You can find William and Pamela mostly in the jungle, not far from Iquitos, Peru, where they run Avatar centre ( https://www.eywainstitute.org ), hosting retreats and dietas, and where, is Jah permits, I will be able to visit, to develop this one night stand into something deeper.




grounded / halo ziemia

August 17th, 2017

The further you want to go, the stronger should be the rope anchoring you in your foundations. These foundations are daily life, being in the world, which is testimony for the the thing you claim to be medicine. If you loose the grip on reality, you loose ability to check what is happening to you in relation to the world, you may commit the sacrilege towards what you say you love – because for those who only wait for you to fall, you will be best example of the joke these claims to healings are. When you strive to open your third eye, be careful that light you seek does not blind you, because the trick is to know maya, and to embrace it, not deny, with eyes fixed on seeing the invisible. Love dunya, praise the world.



Im dalej chcesz podróżować, tym silniejsza powinna być lina kotwicząca cię w twych fundamentach. Są nimi codzienne życie, bycie w świecie, które stanowi świadectwo na rzecz tego, co, jak twierdzisz, jest medycyną. Jeżeli tracisz kontakt z rzeczywistością, tracisz zdolność zweryfikowania tego co dzieje się na styku ciebie i świata, możesz popełnić wówczas świętokradztwo, wobec tego co rzekomo kochasz i szanujesz. Bo dla tych, którzy tylko czekają byś upadł, będziesz najlepszym przykładem dowcipu, jakim jest to rzekome leczenie. Kiedy więc napinasz się by otworzyć trzecie oko, uważaj by światło, jakiego szukasz nie oślepiło cię, bo cały trick to rozpoznać mayę, i ją zaakceptować, nie wypierać, z oczami wypatrującymi czegoś poza. Kochaj dunye, sław świat.







Being ungrounded is in my opinion the most common threat from indiscriminate, chaotic psychedelic use. Illusions of grandeur or contrary, fear and paranoia, conspiracy theories, make believe new age spirituality, fantasies about talking with plant spirits while avoiding engaging with personal issues or own family, all this is common among ever increasing numbers of those, who in the age of internet got used to conviction that all opinions and truths are equal, that all being one means = whatever. If there was nothing they considered of value in their life before, it is very quick and common process to proceed from the experience of “awakening”, to ego inflation, to missionary attitudes, to Don Quixote fighting reptilians, chemtrails, and in the process making fool of himself. In this chapter he will wear Shipibo shirt and Indian feather crown, but he is still a guide in what to be watching out for.

Traditional shamans don’t lose their head in clouds, and to do so they engage in real life, have normal activities, often get dirty. Be like them, instead of dealing with reptilians, maybe learn to milk a cow?

I may cherish my own taste and the fact I am not wearing Indian feather crown and chasing exotic gurus, but I would not be honest – and perhaps wouldn’t dare to preach the words above if I were not myself – at times at least – the guy in Shipibo shirt who does not have a clue how to milk a cow.



Brak ukorzenienia to w mojej opinii najczęstsze zagrożenie płynące z niekontrolowanego, chaotycznego używania psychodelików, nawet jeśli dzieje się to pod szyldem ceremonii, w oparach palo santo i dźwiękach mantr. Iluzje wielkości, zwłaszcza na początku częsta ekstaza i fanatyzm neofitów, albo na odwrót, strach i paranoja, teorie spiskowe, patchworkowa duchowość new age, fantazje na temat duchów roślin, przy jednoczesnym unikaniu konfrontacji z osobistymi problemami, z rodziną z krwi, to wszystko jest powszechne w coraz większych szeregach tych, którzy w epoce Internetu przyzwyczaili się do przekonania, że wszystkie prawdy i opinie są równowarte, że skoro wszystko jest jednością – to znaczy wszystko jedno. Jeżeli w ich życiach nie było wcześniej nic co uznawali za wartościowe, to szybki i dość powszechny bywa proces, gdy z doświadczenia “przebudzenia” przechodzą do inflacji ego, podstaw misjonarskich, do Don Kiszota walczącego z reptilianami, chemtrailsami i w ramach tego procesu, do zwyczajnej farsy. W tej odsłonie błazen nosi etniczne koce i pióropusz, ale dalej jest drogowskazem jaki mówi – uważaj by nie iść tą drogą. Alejandro Jodorowski napisał, że jego zdaniem ayahuaska we współczesnym świecie w dużej mierze trafiła do ludzi o romantyczno- infantylnej mentalności. Nie pozwólmy by mówił o nas.

Tradycyjni szamani nie tracą głowy w chmurach, uczestniczą w prawdziwym życiu, normalnych czynnościach, czasem uwaleni błotem i potem. Bądź jak oni, zamiast walczyć z reptilianami, może naucz się doić krowę?


Mogę cenić sobie własne poczucie smaku, które powstrzymuje mnie przed zakładaniem indiańskiego pióropusza i gonieniem za egzotycznymi guru, ale nie byłbym uczciwy – zapewne nie miałbym odwagi wygłaszać powyższych kazań – gdyby nie to, że to ja jestem – przynajmniej czasami – tym gościem w koszuli Shipibo, który nie ma pojęcia jak wydoić krowę.











April 30th, 2017



Back from another dieta. Self imposed fast and prison in nature. Isolation, austerity, immersion in the plant. Charcoal grilled plantains and boca chico, lots of meditation. Drops of river water on the skin, ass imprints on the mattress. Into the self, halfway so that the nature inside and outside can meet. In the end, to count the bones and value the worth.



Jeszcze jedna dieta.  Samonarzucony post i uwięzienie w miejscu – w naturze. Izolacja, wyrzeczenie, zanurzenie w roślinie.  Grillowane na węglu banany i boca chico, dużo medytacji. Krople strumienia na skórze, odciski tyłka na materacu. W głąb jaźni,  by w umożliwić spotkanie naturze – tej wewnątrz i tej na zewnątrz. By na końcu policzyć wystające kości i ocenić czy warto.
















eye / oko

March 1st, 2017

Three years will pass soon since I wrote here about Joel and felt inspired to tell part of his story with quotes from Havamal, about the way of learning of primordial European shaman archetype, Odin. ( see here :  http://blog.swiatoslaw.com/?p=7535 )

Now I find it interesting that one story that was missing from that allegory becomes one of the threads woven into my own web of life.  Here is a summary of this tale from ( http://www.artofmanliness.com/2015/02/23/viking-mythology-odin/  ) :


The most famous of Odin’s myths is how he lost his eye in seeking greater knowledge and discernment. The story goes that Odin visited a certain well — the Well of Urd — because he knew its waters contained wisdom. When Odin arrived, he asked Mimir, the shadowy, wise being who guarded the well’s depths, for a drink. Mimir knew the tremendous value of such a gift, however. Instead of giving a drink from the waters straightaway, he first required Odin to sacrifice an eye. Whether given easily or after an agonizing internal debate we don’t know, but Odin gored out an eye, and in return Mimir allowed him to quench his deep thirst. Odin lived the rest of his life with a single eye, but much wisdom.



Mijają wkrótce trzy lata od kiedy napisałem na tym blogu o Joelu, i historię tego trickstera opowiedziałem częściowo za pomocą cytatów z Havamal, o drodze nauki pierwotnego europejskiego archetypu szamana – nordyckiego Odyna ( zobacz : http://blog.swiatoslaw.com/?p=7535 )

Wydaje mi się teraz warte dokończenie tej opowieści jedną z historii jakie nie znalazły się w tamtej alegorii, bo stała się ona jedną z nici wplecionych w opowieść mojego własnego życia. Oto jej streszczenie z ( http://www.artofmanliness.com/2015/02/23/viking-mythology-odin/  )


Najbardziej znanym z mitów o Odynie jest ten, jak stracił oko poszukując większej wiedzy i roztropności. Opowieść mówi, iż Odyn wybrał się odwiedzić pewną studnię – Studnię Urd – ponieważ wiedział, iż jej wody zawierają mądrość. Kiedy tam dotarł,  poprosił o wodę Mimira, mroczną, mądrą istotę strzeżącą głębin studni. Mimir znał jednak ogromną wartość takiego podarku. Zamiast po prostu spełnić od razu życzenie Odyna, Mimir zażądał od niego w zamian poświęcenia oka. Czy ten zgodził się od razu czy po długich namysłach, tego nie wiemy, ale Odyn wydłubał swe oko a w zamian Mimir pozwolił mu ugasić jego wielkie pragnienie. Odyn odtąd żył z jedynym okiem, ale wielką mądrością.






[ image source : http://www.truthsayer.info/santa-shaman-much-much-much/ ]


In the middle of January, in the jungle where I live and learn now, I developed a bacterial infection of my eye. Pain and redness, I first thought something was stuck there, but trying and trying I could not solve it. Several hours later I was able to use drops of antibiotic to combat the infection, and in a few days it was gone. However, it left a scar in the middle of pupil on the cornea – permanent damage, according to all opthalmologists I talked to. It obsures the vision and causes loss of of focus, and is basically impossible to correct, save for risky procedure of transplant of cornea, that has no guarantee of improvement. So within a week my main tool of work goes to Hell. And it happens only a few months after precisely the same thing happens to my camera – damaged by humidity it stops cooperating with lenses and most of my photos now are out of focus. So no wonder, it makes me think. Because for some time now I walk double path, between two worlds and two arts and perhaps was hesitating too long.



One interpretation of this myth notes that Odin exchanges worldly vision (his eye) for internal vision (wisdom). While he didn’t give up his worldly sight entirely, he realized that in some cases, wisdom and discernment propel us further towards our goals than what’s on the surface. (…)  Visual observation is certainly important in being aware and present, but what’s more important is orienting yourself to what you’re seeing, which can’t be done without the help of knowledge, foresight, and wisdom.

( http://www.artofmanliness.com/2015/02/23/viking-mythology-odin/ )


What mode of perception was exchanged for what other mode, then?  The answer to this question lies in the character of Mimir. Mimir, whose name means “The Rememberer,” is the divine animating force within cultural/ethnic memory. His wisdom is the wisdom of the traditions that the heathen Germanic peoples held to be sacred. As in the tale of Odin’s discovery of the runes, in which he sacrificed what we might call his “lower self” to his “higher self,” so Odin did in the tale of his relinquishing an eye: he exchanged a profane, everyday mode of perception, beleaguered with countless petty troubles, for a sacred mode of perception, in which the world reveals itself to be divine, the very flesh of the gods, constantly enacting the stories of which the gods are the actors, shimmering with meaning and wonder. 

( http://norse-mythology.org/tales/why-odin-is-one-eyed/ )



W połowie stycznia, w dżungli gdzie obecnie żyję i uczę się, nabawiłem się bakteryjnej infekcji oka. Ból i zaczerwienie, najpierw myślałem że coś tam utkwiło, ale próby i manipulacje tylko pogorszyły sprawę. Kilkanaście godzin później zacząłem używać przepisanego antybiotyku by zwalczyć infekcję, i w ciągu paru dni znikła. Niestety pozostała po niej blizna na rogówce zachodząca na źrenicę – trwałe uszkodzenie, według wszystkich okulistów z jakimi rozmawiałem. Blokuje widzenie, powoduje utratę jego ostrości, i jest praktycznie nie do usunięcia, poza ewentualną  drogą i ryzykowną procedurą transplantacji rogówki, która nie daje żadnych gwarancji poprawy. Tak więc w ciągu tygodnia jedno z mych podstawowych narzędzi pracy poszło w diabły. A stało się to zaledwie pare miesięcy po tym jak dokładnie to samo stało się z moim aparatem – po długim czasie w tropikach wilgoć sprawiła, iż przestał współpracować z obiektywami i większość moich zdjęć wychodzi teraz nieostra. Nic więc dziwnego że te wydarzenia zmusiły mnie do zastanowienia, tym bardziej że od jakiegoś już czasu podrózowałem równolegle na dwóch ścieżkach, rozdarty dwoma rodzajami sztuki, i być może wahałem się zbyt długo.


Jedna z interpretacji tego mitu wskazuje na to, iż Odyn wymienia swoje ziemskie widzenie ( swe oko ) na wizję wewnętrzną ( wiedzę ). Chociaż nie oddał swego zwykłego wzroku całkowicie, zdał sobie sprawę z tego, iż w pewnych wypadkach, wiedza i roztropność pchają nas dalej w stronę naszych celów niż to co na powierzchni. (…) Zwykłe patrzenie jest z pewnością ważne dla bycia obecnym i świadomym, ale to co ważniejsze to odniesie się do tego co widzimy, coś czego nie da się zrobić bez pomocy poznania, przezorności i wiedzy.

( http://www.artofmanliness.com/2015/02/23/viking-mythology-odin/ )


Jaki sposób percepcji został tutaj wymieniony, i na jaki? Odpowiedź na to pytanie leży w charakterze Mimira. Mimir, którego imię oznacza “Ten, co przypomina”, jest ożywiającą boską siłą wewnątrz kulturowej/etnicznej pamięci. Jego wiedza to wiedza tradycji, które pogańscy Germanie uważali za święte. Tak jak w opowieści o odkryciu przez Odyna runów, w której poświęcił to, co moglibyśmy nazwać jego “niższym ja” dla “wyższej jaźni”, tak czyni i tu, w opowieści o wyrzeczeniu się oka, wymienia codzienne, świeckie postrzeganie, obarczone niezliczonymi problemami, na świętą percepcję, w której świat objawia się jako boski, będący ciałem bogów, bezustannie odgrywający historie, w których bogowie są aktorami, błyszczący znaczeniem i cudownością.

( http://norse-mythology.org/tales/why-odin-is-one-eyed/ )





December 29th, 2016


“I know the path. It is straight and narrow. It is like the edge of a sword. I rejoice to walk on it. I weep when I slip. God’s word is: ‘He who strives never perishes.’ I have implicit faith in that promise. Though, therefore, from my weakness I fail a thousand times, I will not lose faith, but hope that I shall see the Light when the flesh has been brought under perfect subjection, as some day it must.



Znam ścieżkę. Jest prosta i wąska. Jest jak ostrze miecza. Cieszę się idąc nią. Płaczę, kiedy się potykam. Słowo Boga jest takie ” Ten który próbuje nigdy nie zginie”. Mam wewnętrzną wiarę w tą obietnice. A zatem, chociaż w mej słabości upadam po tysiąc razy, nie stracę wiary, ale będę miał nadzieję, iż ujrzę światło kiedy ciało zostanie już w pełni okiełznane, jak pewnego dnia musi się stać.”

(YI, 17-6-1926, p215) /// The Mind of Mahatma Gandhi



























The highest concern of all the mythologies, ceremonials, ethical systems, and social organizations of the agriculturally based societies has been that of suppressing the manifestations of individualism; and this has been generally achieved by compelling or persuading people to identify themselves not with their own in- terests, intuitions, or modes of experience, but with the archetypes of behavior and systems of sentiment developed and maintained in the public domain. (…)



Najważniejszą misją wszystkich mitologii, ceremonii, etycznych systemów i społecznej organizacji opartych na rolnictwie społeczeństw było stłumienie jakichkolwiek objawów indywidualizmu, i osiagano to zwykle przez zmuszanie lub przekonanie ludzi do identyfikowania się nie z ich własnymi interesami, intuicjami, czy doświadczeniem, ale z archetypami zachowania i systemami sentymentalnymi wypracowanymi i utrzymywanymi w domenie publicznej. (…)







But, on the other hand, there have always been those who have very much wished to remain alone, and have done so, achieving sometimes, indeed, even that solitude in which the Great Spirit, the Power, the Great Mystery that is hidden from the group in its concerns is intuited with the inner impact of an immediate force. (…)



Z drugiej jednak strony, zawsze istnieli tacy, którzy chcieli pozostać na osobności, i czynili tak, czasem osiągając nawet taką samotność w której Wielki Duch, Moc, Wielka Tajemnica która jest przed zbiorowością pochłoniętą swymi zajęciami ukryta, tu dzięki intuicji daje się odczuć wewnątrz w całej mocy bezpośredniego doświadczenia.







The dragon “Thou Shalt,” as Nietzsche terms the social fiction of the moral law, has been slain by the lion of self-discovery; and the master roars—as the Buddhists phrase it—the lion roar: the roar of the great Shaman of the mountain peaks, of the void beyond all horizons, and of the bottomless abyss.



Smok nakazu “Będziesz” jak nazywa Nietzsche społeczną fikcję moralnego prawa zostaje zgładzony przez lwa samo-odkrycia, i mistrz wydaję z siebie ryk – jak nazywają to buddyści – ryk lwa – ryk wielkiego szamana ze szczytu góry, z próźni poza wszelkimi horyzontami, z bezdennej otchłani. 


[ Joseph Campbell, The Masks of God : Primitive Mythology ]










todo cura / szamani

September 12th, 2016

todo cura, todo sana
todo tiene medicina dentro

fuego / aire / agua












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