N-dimethyltryptamine
A spontaneous, middle-of-the-night journey into the body led to these words. Half poem, half catharsis, half dream. Let it make non-sense. Let it awaken the DMT dormant in your being.
The DMT will see you now
The DMT will see you now
The DMT will see you now
For the first few weeks the baby replaces G-o-d.
It is meant to be this way.
It started in labor.
Everything got really tight and close,
pressed up against me.
And I couldn’t feel God's vastness anymore.
Everything was taken over by this tiny being.
The whole birth occurred,
and in the back of my mind I wondered:
and the DMT?
Where was it?
And then the trauma.
So red-hot-fast, so quick.
The DMT hid,
and survival mode kicked in.
Protect this tiny god at all costs.
If we lose him,
we lose everything.
Weeks pass.
With a sleeping baby weighted on your chest you have nowhere to go but in the body.
You cannot write, you cannot leave, you must stay.
here here here.
No,
you cannot go unplug your phone.
With a sleeping baby weighted on your chest,
only eight-pounds-and-something but don’t forget the baby weighs the size of god.
The size of god is sleeping on your chest.
And for the first time you dare to ask,
where are you?
Where have you been?
You have thanked God naked every morning and every night but deep down you have felt left by him.
In this moment he tells you that’s because he’s everywhere now.
But when the baby was sleeping on your chest a few minutes ago,
he asked you to go in.
To one of God's favorite resting places:
the body.
{Like the queen in a game of chess, hands have a particular power. Unlike other body parts, the hands can travel most anywhere on the surface of the body.}
The Head
You put a hand on your head, and close your eyes. And the massive pounding headache that has been stopping to visit every day stops being a headache and becomes flashing lights. And then a circle of bunnies. A circle of bunnies? A circle of bunnies in my mind okay so be it I see it let yourself see it. Gentleness. They invite gentle play and you start to Exhale Quietly Dramatically It’s okay. The white bunnies in circle in your mind in a valley white purity tenderness fertility they don’t doubt that they need to multiply multiply multiply. The bunnies in your mind are in ceremony They are munching away at each of your thoughts like blades of grass so that you don’t need to. More exhales. I ask myself who am I ? I hear, quite immediately: I am the mother of Atilla Amitai. I cry. I ask again. I hear it, a few more times. And then I grab God by the collar and I’m like: C'mon now there was a me and you before this guy so show yourself now. And then I hear: I Am the daughter of the most vast power of the divine. I am the daughter of the vastest most powerful rendition of the divine. I am his daughter. The one who created the most beauty in the world, and the one that hasn’t been created yet, that is my father. More exhales. I wipe my hands across my face. They look like my baby face. They feel like my Baby’s face. It is not such a different face. I am daughter but I am not a baby. Exhale. This Is good. Resentment. I am not a baby. I will not be treated like one from this moment on. Exhale. Then shame. Shame that I have left myself. Though I know I haven’t. But we are getting weary. This is not woo woo. These hands have vision and my body holds light and my gift is that I can heal. This is not something to be discarded minimized or contrived. She can heal Herself. Her hands continue. The Throat
Gently now,
to the throat stones.
To be dislodged.
The truth is there and it can be rescued even if you think it is impossible to do or untrue.
Gently now begin pulling the throat stones out.
She learned in birth this is the only way:
to love herself is the only way in, through, and out.
So, gently she pulls at the stones.
Her head pounds.
She doesn’t want to see or hear or know
the Truth that wants to come out.
Grab at the throat and pull another stone out.
Then to the right shoulder.
All the burdens that are not yours.
She is no longer carrying shit that is not hers.
Burdens that no one asked to be placed on her.
Pass the grief point,
and then the chest.
The Heart
She asks the Shaman in her hands:
What is there?
Everything.
And then the truth:
Nothing.
This space feels hollow.
The dementors of the mind keep pulling her up.
Up up and out.
Compassion.
Makes the prayer to be shown how:
I want to live from my heart.
I want to truly start living from my heart, now.
I
want to be in my heart
now.
Cacao.
Madres.
All the medicines of the heart
come show
me how.
I
will
be your loving servant.
I will show you how.
Exhale.
Can you?
Forgive yourself?
Forgive yourself.
Perdón perdón.
'Al fin a ti mismo.'
Exhale.
Tears.
Forgive yourself.
And everyone.
And here is where she notices,
she is in some personal inner ceremony of the closing of the bones.
And the DMT,
is close.
And today is four-weeks-and-one-day which means there is about nine days left of this cuarentena.
Cuarentena que nunca fue eso en realidad.
Y a la misma vez, si.
Si fue.
Forgiveness gives way to a small grief.
This time is ending.
Sorry for trying to rush it.
Sorry for spending it in my head, without God.
And thank you for this awakening, and the DMT, and the halo
of the candle on the ceiling.
Oh god,
what is happening?
She hears that it is also collective:
this distance.
There is great static,
between us and Him
in this moment,
in these times.
And it is okay.
It means we must be all the more intentional in being here,
in getting there.
She is grateful for
these visions on a simple Monday night.
Not simple.
Light in her hands,
blazing bright.
She keeps seeing.
The Womb
Finally a hand makes its way down to the womb. This feels empty too. Not barren, receptivity. It wants the hands to stop trying for a moment. To actually listen now, to receive. So she does. She breathes. She realizes she can only get out of the way once she has come into herself. In to go out. She knows this but now the understanding is different. The work of her womb is sleeping on her chest. Breathe. More exhales. Gratitude. 'When I listen to the voice in my womb I hear a beauty prayer.' She sees the dead end she seems to constantly expect and now it is dissolving and she has a moment of hope for everything her womb is still meant to create. The womb grows roots. All the future, and the future present on her chest. That has her same face. The way it feels. And yet he is such a mystery. And that is a blessing. She remembers she doesn’t have to have it all figured out. Cliche, but true, obviously. She only needs to rest her hand here and breathe. She is so tired. That’s why the mind has hijacked things. Breathe. Rest. We will dance again. From the emptiness in her womb she gets a glimmer where she can visualize victory again. She recalls how to do that. She does. She wraps herself in it. She bathes the sleeping baby on her chest in it. She drops her animosity and bathes her husband in it. She visualizes all of them bathed in golden light. She breathes possibility. A future of unimaginable joy and prosperity. The dark tunnel unfolds, this is just the beginning. She also sees a giraffe. A giraffe. Okay thats what we see so be it. Giraffe in your womb and circle of bunnies in your brain. The mind quiets. 'Eleanor Rigby picks up the rice in a church where a wedding has been.' She lets go, actually. She gives thanks, actually. She puts the baby on the bed and goes to pee, finally. It feels like stepping out to pee in an ayahuasca ceremony. She pees and then lingers in the release. What a release. What a relief. She feels her power imminent. For a moment not afraid of really anything anything. She remembers that she gave birth and she needed this layer of processing. And every day she is healing something something something. And her body goes through pain but it is not medications and doctors she needs it is herself who knows nothing but feels things and lives through them and sometimes we regress we revisit we just didn’t quite finish that thing. Oh there it was, she thinks, just as she is about to wipe and finish this thing. Oh there it is, the DMT.
So cathartic to even read
Thank you