During my visions I had an experience that I recorded in my notebook afterwards and that I will transcribe here:
“In the aftermath of the celebration of the magic mushrooms. The flesh of God and I made one. My smile emanating from the unknown in peace and me sitting receiving the warm caress of the fire, its waves of pure energy.
And, knowing that I am in the right place at the right time, that I am at the climax of the song of time, at the transition of this epoch of my life and the life, for the better.
I look at my heart and yet, out of habit and disguise, some “part” does not beat accordingly. And I think that it is absurd not to let it dance for some old story or fight, which in my new age will be irrelevant.
Dance heart, to my left in my chest!
Dance waves, my particles, atoms, molecules, cells, systems, organs.
And in liberation I discovered the heart on my right.
In my chest, obsessed with matter and veins and arteries, the only one I thought existed was the left heart. The one here. The familiar one.
But I looked inside and I could feel the beat of emptiness on the right side of my chest.
Weak at first but soon matched the strength of the heart matter and both waves were expanding.
This was clearly visible.
Waves of circular shimmering colors like two drops of water falling into a pond illuminated by the full moon whose waves touch and embrace each other.
And these circles attracted each other. When they intertwined in a vesica piscis shape
I understood the love of the feminine and masculine poles in me. And the image of Anto, my inspiration, came to me, as in me, being me and completing me.
And from that alchemical union, a white bird, spiritual, out of the known world, came from the deepness of space at the center of the Vesica Pisces. And as it came ascending and its wings magnified in divine geometry, a voice bathed me, saying:
“Let it pass”
And the circles joined together giving rise to a great circular resonance and the bird of the sky ascended at great speed. And as it pierced my chest, my throat and my skull it turned into adragon. Rampaging, mad, full of passion and pride of life.
It soared through the air around me like a wild animal that had just been released.
And I understood the gift I was receiving, freedom.
The warrior, the merchant, the magician, the world, the force that can never be appeased, the madman, the love of earth and sky.
The blessing of the forefathers.
The creation manifesting itself in this green dragon with white wings and wild eyes, enormous that have a hunger to know, and huge geometric square teeth that inevitably smile.
My life full of grace.
The dragon in me, Quetzalcoatl
Blessed by the mystery. Proud to be alive, to be a son of this earth.
Of having given me the river of blood in my veins and the ancestral sidereal forces that vivify it.
To take care the garden and create. To give and to serve.
To awaken in rejoicing love, to play the game that wants to play.”
The half heroic
It took a few months after my father had died for me to realize so many unknown things that grieved within. The inconsolable loss was branching out into many areas of my life. I did not recognize myself. I couldn't take care of a tool. I didn't want to be in the shop. I didn't want to play soccer. My dad disdained soccer and I love it.
Who knows what other things I left unfinished or what else died with him. My heart would open up and open up. That seems to hurt sometimes. Because a lot of things I did in my life I did to share with him, and to make him proud, or even to prove him wrong. Part of my identity was what I had constructed to relate to and please him. The mirror was broken or gone. I had no one to reflect myself in. I had no guide and no comparison. That leaves a void, neural connections inevitably die. The heart opens a space and loves, it seems to hurt.
Her father had passed away when I was just a baby, so I must have been her grounding wire in that moment of transformation. I must have been the one who drew out his grief and connected him to his father side. In my case I had lost my dad and we were with Antonella expecting a baby boy. A journey within a journey. Felipe was born three months after Rafael's death. My only brother, Francisco, was also expecting a baby with Yamila, Tobias, who was born on December 11. Seven days before my dad's birthday.
I decided to go back to growing mushrooms, after those years of fungi rest, the possibility of having psylocibes to microdose and give to my family was completely coherent. I successfully grew, ate, gave, distributed, sold. Everything again. I felt good, I understood my father's departure as the resignification of his life in me. I recognized his life and perfect work in the mandala of my existence.
I felt like experiencing a large dose, there was not much excuse. Just curiosity. I had heard Terrence McKenna's lectures in which he recommended to do it meditating in the dark. The heroic dose. 6 grams of dried mushrooms. Alone, locked up, in the dark.
I had the mushrooms.
At that time I was meditating with Joe Dispenza and working on abundance affirmations, every day. I used to meditate and repeat I Am phrases to myself in the mornings. I am abundant. I am fortunate. I am grateful.
It was all about abundance and money. I had blocks with that. Maybe I wanted to work on them or unblock them with the meditations. They made me feel good, peaceful and connected.
One day, even though I had been working for weeks on my ideas of poverty and scarcity, I did some repair work on an instrument in the workshop and by automatism I told the owner of the instrument that I was not going to charge him. Just take it away. Everything was fine.
Immediately after his departure I knew I had made a mistake. Why didn't I value my work, why had I missed another opportunity. I really needed the money and for some automatic program I had given away something I considered valuable. I used to have those kinds of problems but that time I caught myself super meditated and worked on my affirmations. I thought the meditation was going to work and again I had fallen asleep. I was really pissed off. I spent the day grumbling with anger.
That night I decided to do the heroic. Well, half heroic.
I told Antonella to go to sleep with the kids, I was going to lock myself in the little earthen bedroom to make a mushroom trip. That I was going to be in there, that they should rest assured that I was going to be fine.
I prepared the psylocibes mushrooms and added a few grams of lion's mane, ginger and lemon tea, headphones with music and a notebook to write down.
I wrote down my requests: I want to know where the scarcity and poverty program comes from. I want money. I want fortune. Several other things like that that seemed reasonable at the time to ask the mushrooms. Not that you can't ask mushrooms for things. The key, as Jose Luis Parise says, is the “from where” you are asking. But I was about to find out.
I ate the mushrooms well chewed and put on some meditation music at 00:00 hours. Three grams of dried mushrooms, alone, locked up and in the dark. Half heroic.
Half an hour passed and I felt nothing. The music was really ugly, I don't even know where I got it from, but it was a mistake.
I had gone on the trip armed with my pen and my notebook, my headphones and my cell phone. To take notes of what I see, to travel with the music.
I decided to lie down because I felt tired and I wanted to take off my headphones and turn off the night light. In a single movement, the divinity took away all my weapons. I entangled my arm with the headphone cord and my notebook, pen, headphones and cell phone fell to the floor. All at once.
I was left with silence and all of a sudden the whole effect came together. Before turning off the light I saw an interdimensional space, that is, like a transparency in the things in the room. In that interdimensionality superimposed with the room I saw a kind of gigantic monster that encompassed every corner of the gaze. That monster had hair, spikes, stings, eyes, legs, fangs, hooks, claws, mouths. Infinite eyes, infinite barbs and stings legs fangs hooks claws mouths. Open your eyes, close your eyes, it didn't matter. There it was. All over the room and all over the space. I turned off the light and there it was. Morbidly terrifying. Staring at me. And I think adrenaline was coursing through my body that I felt it trembling but as if quite below my perception. As if the pair of eyes had floated above the crown of my head. What would happen to the body was none of my business now. It was happening far away. I was not afraid in that state of floating eyes, because what I was seeing was extraordinarily tremendous, inconceivably weird. An infinite arachnid with infinite fractal legs loaded with every natural weapon symbol a predator can create in the nature of planet earth.
I felt a presence on my left side and heard a chant. They were female voices, deep, earthy. The colors of these spirits were soft and warm and the scale of their music was African. I felt myself becoming very small in the darkness next to these figures. And I felt them take me in their arms. They cooed and cuddled me like a family. In songs they were telling me things without words. As if it were an indescribable telepathy of frequencies. They told me that I was still very small, like a baby. And they told me, don't worry, we are cultivating you.
Maybe you think that you cultivate the mushrooms, but the mushrooms also cultivate you.
Maybe you think that you take the mushrooms, but the mushrooms also take you.
And after giving me a lot of love and African cooing, they “left” me again on “the ground” and pushed me forward like someone who pushes a child to ask something to the grocer. As if to say, “come on, little kid, didn't you want to ask?”
And I said:
“Well... maybe... actually... It wasn't that important...” .... It wasn't such a big deal either... we'll leave it for another day...”
And the infinite astral space darkened, and the music began to sound symphonic.
In blue and violet colors clouds loomed in the sky in the distance, and the feeling of a storm coming over me. I see the music and the clouds coming. More and more gloomy storm and music like an orchestra of strings and winds. A great violet and blue buzz of clouds bursting above me in an abysmal thunder whose frequency said:
“WHO'S ASKING!?”
Resounded throughout my being the great rumble and I did not know who. I wanted to leave.
The cloud took infinite fractal form, like the architecture mosaic in the great cloud, in the same shadowy colors. Each space the fractal patterns left had a symbol, an icon, a logo. A great mosaic of little pictures and living images that awaited my response. Those logos represented each of the ways of being crucified in life. Each one of the ways of being stigmatized and lynched, stoned, imprisoned, jailed, accused, rumored, suspected, persecuted, killed, beaten, intimidated, defenestrated, banished, outlawed, criminalized, locked up.
Each of these mosaics contained an image in the fractal infinity. They depicted some such scene. Angry mobs of sticks and stones, gossiping newspapers, state flags, armed police against me, judges, pointing fingers, armies, and infinite icons in infinite space. Laws, seals, regulations. All against me. All like the great storm over my head and I was looking up.
Silence and waiting. There was the storm waiting for my answer. Alive, still, up there.
I wanted not to exist.
I grew smaller and smaller in the void. Blacker in the darkness.
There was only a speck of me left in the black immensity.
I looked up and there was the storm looking back at me with its fractals of crucifixion.
I became smaller and darker, I wanted not to exist.
I waited but everything was the same, the storm above, and me, the smallest and most insignificant thing I could make of myself.
It waited for my answer.
Until I remembered:
When my daughter Sofi had nightmares we used to chant a Buddhist mantra: Om mani padme hum.
The diamond on the lotus flower. I remembered. I explained to Sofi that the nightmares were just nightmares and that she is the diamond on the lotus flower. The diamond is her consciousness that can never be destroyed, because it is the hardest material in the universe, transparent and pristine. And the lotus flower is the ephemeral world of things and also of nightmares. Everything passes and consciousness remains. The flower dies and is reborn, from the void and the dark swamp. It is beautiful and ephemeral. The diamond remains, it is consciousness. Bodies and the world are born and die, everything changes and transforms, everything is ephemeral. The observer of what happens remains indestructible and transparent. Awareness.
I remembered the image of a diamond floating on a lotus flower and began to laugh. I pointed to the storm shaking my index finger and laughing I said:
“Almost, I almost fell!” and a guffaw burst out of me. Still the storm didn't even flinch, “You almost got me! “
You can't “not exist”.
Then I cried out with a smile.
“I am the Grace and the Glory”
“I am the owner of fortune and luck!”
And the storm burst out saying
“BINGO!”
Golden coins flew through the air and sounded like gold.
A psychedelic electronic circus music began to party and celebrate.
The fractal took on feminine, golden shapes, danced and rejoiced. How to explain it. A cathedral of light, of perfect architecture and harmonic measures, but alive and breathing. Arches and luminous columns full of mosaics. Fractal golden stained glass windows pulsating light. Towards the infinite space. Immense as the universe. Making strange music similar to moog synthesizers and 8-bit video games in perfect scales and extraordinary counterpoints, inconceivably intergalactic and extraterrestrial.
In each mosaic in each space between light an icon. There were three that were repeated throughout infinity.
A winged golden orb.
A snake going one way next to a snake going the other. They passed by
The golden Egyptian mask from the sarcophagus of Tutankhamun.
That is, a sun with wings, a pair of snakes going in opposite directions, and an ancient golden Egyptian face with its outlined eyes and blue and gold striped headdress.
I was grinning dumbfounded and thinking, “This must be a goddess!” “All the art is in this!”
It was very Egyptian and I was inside an Alex Grey painting.
Beyond my visual glee, the icons stuck in my mind. Why such images and what do they mean?
I understood something. It may take me a lifetime to decode what these images were saying. My decoding is personal and was explained synchronously after the trip. I don't need an Egyptologist to school me out.
I understand that the winged sun has to do with the power of attention. Sometimes that attention whimsically lands on something that is significant to one's history and the development of the spirit. You happened to see a sign for something you need to know. The winged orb caught your attention there. It travels and moves with your eyes or calls your vision to pay attention where you will gain valuable information or perhaps some opportunity. Symbol of divine synchronicity, serendipity and casuality.
Snakes were symbols of medicine and poison. Both things were done with them. When someone saw a snake they could interpret a danger or an opportunity. Poison or medicine.
I think snakes in opposite directions mean that life events are neither good nor bad in and of themselves. Circumstances can be poison or they can be medicine. Events can be good or bad and they can be good and bad as well.
One's neutrality with life events is important in order to tilt the resonance in one's favor.
Tutankhamun's mask represents eternal life in grace and fortune. Immortality. Dominated attention since he wears a pair of snakes coming out of his third eye. Symbols of the conquest of impulses and drives. Gold is incorruptible, eternal, conductor of electricity and information.
“But this, is this a being? Or is it me?” I asked.
And the goddess disappeared leaving the dark room in sight.
And it reappeared as if playing and I heard the frequencies saying.
“It lives with you and without you.”
I understood that it was an eternal and crazy rejoicing. The game just wants to play.
The divinity does not like the victim's petition. It likes assumption, merit, courage and bravery. Fortune comes in addition to those who are fortune incarnate and know themselves to be so. To be fortune incarnate, one must be bold and mischievous. One defies the gods so one finally obtains their favor. The goddess does not eroticize with those who beg. But with the one who has unique and original desires and dares to assume himself as the deserving and the one who receives them. The goddess is in the fabric of reality permanently, she is the matrix, the web, the dance of reality. When the change of frequency occurs in a being that assumes from its core that it is the owner of what it wants, the matrix dances and swirls the vortex to accommodate each piece of the landscape and each actor in the place that is needed for that to be fulfilled. It is the famous law. The goddess is not aroused by idleness, nor by the desire of others, nor by bullshit. The goddess is turned on by authentic and courageous desires of the being. The goddess dances with the one who assumes the madness of the impossible, the mischievousness of defiance, the daring.
I saw the gold turn green and from the center of the fractal a human figure began to unfold. First it was one, from one it split into two Siamese twins which then split into four men fused at the back. A single head with four faces, a single torso with eight arms and eight legs. And so it unfolded into multiples until it filled all the space and disappeared. I understood that it was the frequency of growth.
I asked in confidence:
“Where does my scarcity program come from?”
And it showed me images of explosions and war. Airplanes passed by, gunshots could be heard, dead all around me, ruins and dust. I understood that my ancestors had suffered greatly from the wars in Europe.
“Is this what happened or is this going to happen?”
And something shook the whole room. I felt a force from beyond take me by the back and turn me over as if I were a baby. I felt three pats on my back and everything went back to normal. When I looked forward the glorious fractal divinity was gone. I could only see a faint image of a large shadow hidden in the interdimensionality. But I was back in my dark little room.
“But...”
And again the room shook and the frequency said.
“GO TO SLEEP!” and shook me again to turn me over.
I was saddened that the fractal was gone, it was so beautiful.
The female spirits next to me came up to me and chanted something like.
“Think about what you said.”
And I realized that what happened and what is going to happen is identical. What happened at some point in time is engraved in the DNA. DNA is nothing more than a map of vital expression. What happened, if we do not collectively transcend it through understanding and loving learning, we are destined to repeat it. To a greater or lesser extent, depending on how we have transcended it.
Little by little the fractal was appearing again.
And I saw how there were beings on the planet that used the creative force of the symbols and the fabric of the fractal reality to parasitize others.
And the frequency of the fractal said to me:
“People don't have a clue.”
And perhaps I interpret that people, in general, have no idea of the power they have, or how it is used, or how to find it. And they have even less idea that there are groups that do know the power that they have and that people have, how it is used and how it is done to manipulate people to pull strings in the world.
And since we were in confidence I thought about making a fortune and being rich.
And the fractal mutated again. The gold came back and the fabric became like when he said Bingo and danced. But this time the gold was opaque and didn't dance, it felt dangerous. I saw it Egyptian again but this time it contained pyramids, cats, lots of sensuality, guns, cars and bodyguards, the colors and symbols of the American flag. That sort of thing. I understood that one had to beware of power and wealth with a lack of merit. Because it was a creator of hierarchical pyramids, zombies, defense mechanisms of that unjust wealth. The more you own, the more it owns you, the more to defend. And so you may find yourself hiring robots to carry guns inside armored cars. Perhaps you live under the constant fear of losing everything, so you become part of an empire and slave owner.
Little by little the fractal became diluted and disappeared. I no longer felt the spirits on my left side.
I could feel transformation running through my veins. I felt an inner pain of not knowing what to do with the information. Today I can relate and thread it. I have my interpretations and I did a process of integration of what happened to me. But at the time the experience had been so strong. So inexplicably beautiful and gruesome at the same time. When I returned to my body, I had no choice but to curl into a ball and cry. How do I live after this? What do I do? I asked myself. And now what do I do? It hurt. I thought a lot about the war.
Three hours had passed. For a while I was inhabiting that ache of body and mind. As if I was suddenly giving birth to myself. I was touching those ancestral fibers. Time was so strange that I imagined that I would always eternally feel this way. I had become ill, I thought, nothing will ever be the same again. I felt the gigantic sickness again.
As the pain eased, I began to have visions about my life in the future. Things I should and could do. That is a beautiful moment. Where you dream about creating your new life out of the experience.
One of the visions I had was very impressive. I saw the faces of several familiar and not so familiar people. Looking at me as if surprised. These were memories, things I had perceived in the past, perhaps unintentionally and without paying attention. The younger members of the soccer club I played for and their faces. A passerby who had seen me. The look of my daughter, replicated in others. The gaze of my dogs, replicated in others. I understood that there are people and beings that one exemplifies. For whom one is a “Big Brother” or “exemplary figure” in the hierarchy of souls. I understood that we all have this around us. Each one of us is assigned with that look. Whether we have children or no children. Whether we have dogs or don't have dogs. There is always going to be someone younger in age or in spirit. Someone weaker and smaller in whatever way that may manifest itself, who sees you as an example for better or for worse. It's the same exercise that mankind went through to conceive the concept of God and saints and angels and Christ and Buddha.
I saw the faces of the 15-year-old players at the club, looking to me as an example. And I unconsciously perhaps, in the face of some attitudes and words, was setting an example for the worse. They were looking to model their personality on the older and closer ones, as I had done when I was a teenager and still do with those I consider masters.
That vital reciprocity of mirroring is always present. This is how virtue and defect become contagious.
It is not that I am an enlightened teacher, it is that the range of consciousness of this school planet is so vast that there are all students for all teachers and each one of us has assigned beings who take us as an example. Just as we have modeled our being on the basis of conceiving vital possibilities of exemplifying beings.
I had been exemplifying like an ass. I was capricious and stubborn. My attitudes in the club were often resentful and jealous. I saw the faces of young people copying, their mirror neurons. I saw how I dragged toward the worst case. From that mushroom trip I changed. And I began to bring the best of my virtues. And I believe that in the short time I stayed at the club, I was able to leave a good example. Integrity, loyalty, honesty, discipline, at least. And I established a beautiful bond with the younger members.
At least I had improved.
Slowly I descended to the new normal. I landed from the trip in my little room, it was early morning. I woke up and went out of the room, to the bathroom. In the bathroom door is a large mirror. I saw myself complete. I was glad to have that body and not be a fractal god floating in absolute eternity waiting to meet with psychonauts (I am, but luckily I have a body and a world to explore). In that body I understood that all the limitations one has, physical, space, time, earth, sky, law of gravity, celestial bodies, are limitations that contain us and allow such power and infinity to be used to explore oneself. That I am thankful that I was limited in so many ways so that I can understand my power and grace one at a time, in a curious state of learning. I am thankful for my life, being alive and my family.
I looked at my body and face and saw that it was made of the same fabric I had seen in light and fractal. I saw that its attributes of infinite creativity, madness, daring and mischief were now imprinted on me. And that now I had to play myself.
