“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.

but feel I try / lecz czuć próbuję

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.

To all the fathers / Wszystkim ojcom

…

Everything is sacred, every thing in creation. If we are serious about this, then the only blashphemy is the negation of life, denial of this world. Shit, sweat and sperm. And yet to these thoughts out loud were not only highest for of heresy back then, when those in power had possibility of setting stakes alight, but they can also sound so now, especially to some of those who consider themselves spiritual. Is your brew of the vine sacred for all the transformation it can procur? If so, can one only dress in white and kneel in front of it, what to think of this – genuine – Amazonian shaman – trickster – he wears no cristals, he knows no mantras, and he does this to his bottle :

…

Wszystko jest świętością, każda rzecz w stworzeniu. Jeżeli traktujemy to poważnie, wówczas jedynym bluźnierstwem jest negacja życia, zaprzeczenie tego świata. Gówno, pot i sperma. A jednak, wypowiadanie tych myśli głośno było nie tylko najwyższą formą herezji wtedy, kiedy ci u władzy mieli możliwości podpalania stosów, ale może brzmieć i tak dzisiaj, zwłaszcza dla niektórych z tych, którzy uważają się za osoby na duchowej ścieżce. Czy twój wywar z liany jest święty z powodu przemian jakie katalizuje? Jeżeli tak, czy można jedynie ubrać się na biało i bić mu pokłony, co zatem myśleć o tym – oryginalnym – amazońskim szamanie – tricksterze, którzy nie nosi kryształów, nie zna mantr, i robi ze swoją butelką coś takiego :

But still, I can not help but FEEL that truth is straightforward , that I am finally recovering for myself lost meaning of empty words, when the Ortodox Ukrainian hymns flowed from my speakers, about the God, lord of the world, while I was in process of tattooing this, I felt that I am filling these words with this, what after all was always important to me, and probably is for all men. God, father, creator of MY world.

…

Bo nie mogłem powstrzymać UCZUCIA, że prawda jest prosta, że w końcu odzyskuję dla siebie utracone znaczenie prostych słów, kiedy prawosławne ukraińskie hymny płyną z głośnika, o Panu – gospodarzu świata, podczas gdy ja tatuuję, czułem, że słowa te wypełniają się tym, co w końcu zawsze było dla mnie ważne, i takie pewnie jest dla wszystkich. Boże, ojcze, stworzycielu TEGO Świata.