A black witch moth landed on my heart

A grasshopper on my right index finger

I’m on the roof of myself

There’s a fire in the distance

My heart moth began beating its wings

- First note of the journey.

Good day, this is a writing about a journey I took from Iquitos, Peru to Leticia, Colombia. What I am sharing are my notes I took while on this journey.

It reads a bit like poetry, a bit like a travel log, a bit like a spiritual memoir, blending philosophical inquiry with magical realism. I’ll let you figure it out!

Needless to say there was a lot of symbolism throughout the journey! I did polish a few sections toward the end so that it would flow as a story. But I would love to share the journey with you, all of the synchronicities, all of the cosmic laughter moments.

I hope you enjoy!

With all my love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer.

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An Amazonian black witch moth, beating it’s wings on my heart.

I took the advice.

I’m on a boat now to Leticia—

More accurately to Santa Rosa.

From there I need to find my way to Colombia.

I want to stay on good cheer as this trip continues.

I have nothing to lose, everything to gain.

I heard a podcast about water, chameleons, butterflies.

I threw the I-Ching:

Obstacle ䷦ to Upward Mobility ䷭

Water ☵ over Mountain ☶. Earth ☷ over Wind ☴.

39 to 46.

Supreme success—have no doubts.

This change is important.

This boat is numbered 777.

***

We’re moving now, gliding on the water.

Sun just above the tree line,

toiling with golden clouds.

***

I sit now at the bow of the boat,

cutting the water.

Homes on stilts. Birds flying home together.

Sunset on the water: huts, campfires, tree lines.

The bow of the “fast boat” on my way to Leticia.

~

Someone is transporting baby chicks;

they chirp behind me in three boxes.

People come up to the bow,

less for the view, more for a photo.

Maybe that’s similar, or the same.

~

We passed a lancha, 3 stories tall,

packed with hammocks, passengers, and laughter.

Don Bill told me no lanchas go this way—

I guess he was wrong.

This is what a lancha can look like at port. The higher areas are where you can string up a hammock for a $18 - 4 day journey (comes with 3 meals per day.)

~

I’m not sure why I’m on this boat,

leaving behind Iquitos, heading deeper into the jungle to the frontier.

It doesn’t matter. This is the way I am headed.

I’m not sure what awaits me, but it certainly does.

***

I watched whorls in my coffee this morning;

the clouds mimic the designs and the intrigue.

~

It’s evening now.

The ship’s spotlight is on, showing the path ahead.

Small insects fly toward the beam,

making it seem as though we are traveling through space and stars.

Birds dart across the light to consume the stars passing by.

~

After a while, humidity sticks to you like sap,

encompassing all of your skin and clothes.

~

When you embody both creator and servant,

you simply do what your heart desires,

completely aligned with self.

~

First little kittens in a box,

now baby chickens in a crate,

humans on a boat.

Where are we all headed?

Someplace with room to grow, I hope.

***

Fog comes off the river, the shoreline no longer visible.

It seems we travel deep now—

below, where the fear and spiders live,

where you find and make peace with those parts that were relegated down.

Moths to the light. Stars to the new moon.

Caterpillars crawl before sprouting wings.

A cool softness waits.

~

The air smells of smoke; unpatterned things show patterns.

~

Engines cut and idle. Lightning in the distance.

Clouds show red when the rays strike. The smoke is thick.

Dead slow the engines. River debris nearby must be traversed.

A second spotlight scans the perimeter.

Thunder roils and doesn’t stop.

Engines cut entirely. Spotlights off.

Chirping chicks crescendo. Thunder stops.

It’s now just the sound of water against the steel hull.

Engines restart. Course set to red thundering clouds.

Everything sounds like an ever-changing growl

as the backdrop of water continues below.

The sky shows we head directly into Aquarius’s jar.

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***

The night is passed.

Sunrise spreads soft lilac with softer apricot across clouds and water.

East we continue into the coming day.

The waterline is at least 15 feet from its zenith.

The tidy, thick orange sunrise

juxtaposes the sprawling verdant jungle.

One still looks like night, with depths and muck and discoveries;

the other looks like a child’s eyes.

The river lazily reflects both.

~

I’m in the hull of the ship now.

They’ve closed the hatch to the outside.

The baby chicks stick their beaks out the slats of their crate.

I stare out the windows of the hull—

everyone else seems content sleeping and on their phone screens.

~

You can hear the jungle’s life from here,

the calling of millions of birds from the tree line.

Small canoes glide by, fishermen looking for a bounty

or simply going downstream to find other land.

The ghost-white trunks of trees are content where they stand.

***

Heart on the River, flow to the center,

You Aquarius, the water bringer.

This Amazon sprouts, from the container—

beautiful kaoutar, how far must I go?

~

To and through the void, past the horizon,

grow past your old self, past all thoughts of doubt.

In supreme success, a cool softness waits.

~

I’m not sure what awaits me,

But it certainly does.

Artificial Island between Peru, Colombia, and Brazil.

We arrived at the artificial island.

A floating restaurant serving river water fish with choice of river water coffee, or river water water.

Other commissary items could also be purchased from an unenthused fatigued looking woman of either 18 or 80.

I took a seat next to the plastic chair dining area on the wooden bench overlooking the brownish murky glorious Amazon. And took a moment to simply be.

The boat unloaded passengers.

The passengers then reloaded themselves on other more antiquated boats- most as unenthused as the commissary vendor.

Almost all heading to the actual river island of Santa Rosa.

~

I stood,

Rummaged through my bag.

Found sage, palo santo, and a lighter.

Then cleansed myself

I walked the perimeter.

A man asked

“A dónde vas?”

“Santa Rosa”

“Espera!” He waved to a nearby cruising motor canoe.

“Esta 5 a la isla- 5 por una moto a migraciones, o caminas 15 minutos” he said quickly with gentleness. “10 para cruzar el río. Si pagas más ellos están robando”

With that I stepped onto the still moving canoe.

We waved- He, I, the boat, the river.

***

Then all things that were supposed to happen happened.

I landed. Took a kind moment to remind the moto driver that the price to Peruvian immigrations was 5 and not 15. Got my exit stamp. Found a shower (probably river water). I drank a restaurant’s instant coffee (maybe river water). Walked back to the docks and took a motor canoe across actual river water to Leticia, Colombia.

Leticia, Colombia

I walked. Asked a briefly disappointed moto driver which direction I could walk to find Colombian immigrations: Aeropuerto-donde?-allá lejos-Bueno, gracias. I moved through street markets of local exotic fruit- annona, pitaya, maracuya, aguaje. Up through humid jungle streets with their verdant canopies. Sometimes asking: aeropuerto? - Más allá. After a thick hour of walking over chipped and broken sidewalks caused by massive jungle roots reclaiming entitled sunlight I arrived.

Pasaporte? Aquí.

Cuánto tiempo en Colombia? No se.

Cuál hostel? Casa de las Palmas.

I left the airport. A man on a loitering motorcycle saw me and asked: Moto? Quizás, cuanto? Nada, un regalo si quieres. Ok, vamos a Casa de las Palmas.

We arrived. I held up 5 to the man and also held up a gold dollar. Prefires uno o el otro? Los dos! I shrugged and handed him both.

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I entered. Registered. Showered. Changed. Saged and reapplied Palo Santo. Then went to the common area. As a thought crossed my mind:

~nothing is as it seems~

That’s when I met the first one- Aaron.

He was packing before his flight.

We spoke for an hour and a half, maybe more- philosophy, spirituality, zen, travel, living, life. He’s been enjoying stoicism recently and is fascinated by it. As a very grounded individual, he had his routines, and regimens in place- vitamins, workout routines, things planned thoroughly for his travels. He spoke for a long time about his best friend, Arturo, who was one of the youngest ever judges in Spain. About Arturo finding spirituality and in doing so inspiring Aaron to investigate spirituality too which led to Aaron living his best life. About Arturo eventually quitting his profession as a judge to pursue more spiritual avenues- living in an ashram in India, studying the greats, learning about himself. About the last time he saw Arturo “happily wasting away” before he simply died.

“Why?” Aaron asked.

I gave him my thoughts.

We finished with teary eyes and an embrace.

“I’m glad Arturo existed”

“Yeah, me too” he said.

~

Then I met Breeze and her Colombian travel companion Kli. They were just getting back from a jungle tour.

“Did you find it?”

“Find what?” Breeze asked.

“Whatever you were looking for” I responded.

“I found more than that!”

“I’m glad!”

Breeze was true to her name, an airy movement to her, happily bouncing from topic. Soft words. Easy way of being. Always learning new things and implementing them.

We spoke for hours. She had begun her travels 6 months prior. Quit her job. Left to find herself. She and Kli had just left Cali before the massive earthquake. We were so lucky.

She asked me for a tarot reading. I accepted. It came in two parts:

• no more comparison, social-butterfly-queen you are one who inspires others, leave that which no longer serves.

• Release your mind of projected reality, you are the only authority over your life, reconcile self.

The next day she and Kli left for the earthquake’s epicenter, Cali, to volunteer and donate supplies. They’ve raised over $10,000.

I also spoke with Kli for a while. He is a mellow person, happy to hear and hold space for new ideas and new people. He would happily listen to Breeze and I chat for an hour about different aspects of finding oneself, he never felt the need to offer his opinions, just nod along, seemingly grateful to simply know more in his content way. It was clear his goal was to assist Breeze in her journey and mission at this time. He’s an accomplished international lawyer.

~nothing is as it seems~

Aquarius Constellation

~

The following morning, after saying goodbye to Breeze and Kli, in the common area I met Kaoutar.

She had just finished applying an intricate henna hand tattoo on her travel companion’s hand, Sara. The tattoo covered all fingers, back of palm, and wrist- all of which featured the moon in delightful intricate precision. We spoke about journaling, handling emotions, and how it felt to be in the jungle and away from home. They were excited to go on a jungle tour. Everyone was all smiles.

“How do I pronounce your name again?”

“Kaoutar.”

“How do I spell that?”

“The spelling might not help … but it’s spelled K.A.O.U.T.A.R - it’s an Arabic word for divine river. There’s a paragraph about it in the Koran.”

“Oh, beautiful. It suits you.”

The girls tour guide arrived and the divine river headed toward a boat that would lead them both to the next part of their journey.

~

I sat back down at the common area table, this time with my tarot cards and my Auralite 23 crystal when I was joined by the last one-

Wearing a shimmering plastic/golden laurel crown, complete with ruby red glass bendi, black eyeliner, white/golden cape of printed laurel leaves, and a hand-carved artisanal wooden staff with its own crown of dried leaves above its head ornamentation- tanned Apollo sat across from me, smiled and said,

“That’s a beautiful crystal.”

“Thank you. Check it out.”

From there we had a multi-hour conversation about mysticism, enlightenment, synchronicities, growth, expansion, and influencing reality through intentional responses instead of reactions.

Apollo shared a story where while on a bus in rural Colombia they were boarded by 5 armed masked men which set the passengers into a frenzied panic. Everyone was made to exit the bus, forfeit all possessions- including the bus itself (minus clothing worn, passports and $10 USD per person). People were crying, trembling in fear, distraught and having all of the expected emotional reactions of people in this inescapable situation. Seeing the inevitability and incomprehensibility/futility/absurdity of the situation, Apollo decided to see if “changing the script” would break people out of their assumed roles. Apollo responded to the masked assailant who demanded the cash by theatrically proclaiming, “please take all my cash, but you can’t have my magical stick nor my special rocks!” -Bonus points for the double entendres - While holding out both hands, one full of coins with a few bills and the other bursting with pebbles. This abrupt change caught the armed assailant by such surprise that his sudden laughter was too genuine, childish, and unexpected to not be contagious by everyone nearby.

“I know what I look like. I know how I can come off to people. They don’t know what to think about me because my appearance doesn’t fit into any script. So I use that to my advantage and write my own.”

Even when they were tying people’s wrists, and walking them into the jungle, Apollo kept with keen comedic timing, instincts, and quips that kept people from hunching into lethargy, but not preventing them from bending at the waist to spontaneously laugh. Even the assailants found this to be to their advantage, so they tied Apollo’s wrists loosely yet firmly, and allowed the signature staff to remain.

“I knew they weren’t going to kill us. They just wanted money and they wanted to get away without additional hassle- people freaking out causes hassle. Plus when you see passports you see how many foreigners there were- that’s always messy. In the end, it’s just money- we were going to be alive! I just kept laughing at how funny it was that people trade their lives for money. Isn’t that strange?”

Apollo’s turbulent day ended with all people being transported to a local rural town and finding the assistance there they needed.

And our conversation ended with shared laughter and insight.

~

After the conversation with Apollo, I sat quietly with my Auralite crystal, feeling the residual heat of his stories.

Fire.

Kaoutar had been the divine river. Water.

Breeze had carried the wind into the room. Air.

Wait.

How strange it was that I had met and had deep conversations with people who had 3 of the 4 elements in their name. Apollo- fire; Kaoutar- water; Breeze - air; it made me think, I wonder what Aaron means. I googled it.

If it means “earth” I’m going to laugh.

I now know that stoic Aaron’s name does not mean “earth”- it means high mountain.

I laughed.

And then I laughed more when I researched what Kli meant. Sacred vessel. And I went on laughing. Breeze wasn’t just air- Breeze and Kli together were Aquarius, the air sign, with its sacred vessel. Just what I had saw pouring itself into the Amazon when going upriver toward Leticia!

~nothing is as it seems~

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Referenced video in the Parque de los Lorros. Leticia Colombia.

That evening I went to Parque Santander or better known as Parque de los Lorros (parakeet park) where hundreds of thousands of birds roost every night at sunset. A truly amazing natural phenomenon if there ever was one. While there I was playing my ronroco, a ten stringed guitar type instrument, when a man asked to take my video playing with the birds. I agreed. He said he’d send me the video on Instagram. I left that evening and all the next day I was so sick that I couldn’t leave my bed. Migraines, body aches, fatigue, I felt dead. I slept for more than 24 hours. I woke the following day feeling much better. I checked my Instagram. I was sent the video from the gentleman at the park two days prior. His Instagram handle: mementomori.

The irony hit me with the weight of a thunderclap. Remember, you will die. Just as I was emerging from the dead-like state of that 24-hour fever, the universe offered another cold, beautiful cosmic wink.

I was still shaking my head in co(s)mic disbelief when I met my next friend in the common area of Casa de las Palmas, Evipaz- Eve and Peace. We spoke for a while concerning these name synchronicities, what names mean, why my name is Awe, and the importance of words and how to use them.

“Speaking of that, can I tell you a word that I love?” She asked.

“Yes, please.”

“It’s a Quechua word- one of the oldest native tongues around here. The word is Sinchi. It is word-fuel to boost up! To find the strength within. Say it for energy to traveling up the mountain even if you’re gassed.”

“Beautiful. Thank you. I love collecting words. May I give you one?” I offered.

“Yes.”

“It’s a word from the Bora people. Sana-ni-MUAH. It means the quiet wisdom that comes before intelligence. Sometimes it can never cross the threshold to language, it lives in a different place than language.”

We shared a little more time together before she got up to leave.

Before leaving the common area another person sat down and wanted to make my acquaintance- my now friend and travel companion. Her name? Ananda. Everlasting bliss through spiritual freedom and union with the divine. She asked me to write a piece of life advice down in her small 3-inch pink notebook. I wrote, “go wherever you are drawn, and dance on your way!” In response she told me this, “You can’t be late to your own life, so enjoy every step on the way!” The connection felt too strong and good, and I figured if she was heading to Iquitos I’d go on that journey. She was. So now we are.

~nothing is as it seems~

~

A 3 story lancha

Hammocks, passengers, laughter.

Now, headed directly into Sagittarius’s Arrow.

Laying in my hammock, enjoying the view from the lancha on the way back to Iquitos, Peru.

I guess this is what happens

when you name yourself Awe.

I still find myself laughing

At all those times I’ve asked for assurances.

~

Can I be sure?

Yes.

Show me.

Ok, look.

Wow…

~

Time passes

~

Can I be sure?

Yes.

Show me.

Ok, look.

Wow…

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With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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“I built my hut within the realm of men, yet hear no noise of carts and horses there.

You ask me how this can be so? with a mind aloof, the place itself becomes remote and tranquil.

Picking chrysanthemums beneath the eastern hedge, I serenely gaze upon the southern mountains.

The mountain air is lovely at dusk, as birds in flight wing their way home together.

Within this scene lies true meaning, but in trying to explain it, I find I have already forgotten the words.”

- Poem 5, of “Drinking Wine” by Tao Yuanming

“Sana-ni-MUAH” - a word from the Bora language that means “wisdom prior to intelligence/words - generally found in nature.”

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In the tri-border-town of Leticia, Colombia, where the Amazon rainforest brushes against Peru and Brazil, a natural phenomenon occurs twice daily - all-year round. The roosting of hundreds of thousands of birds, primarily cobalt-winged parakeets.

Locals say that all the animals of the nearby rainforest used to come to this area to sleep during the night. It was a place of incredible harmony where all quarrels were put aside and as a community of spirit, a group rest would occur as gradually all the individual consciousnesses would drift into the great source. However, now that the town of Leticia has been growing, the once open area has become a park with a perimeter of streets, buildings, and pesky automobiles. So, now the quadrupedal animals no longer make the trip, however as the sky is as of yet unencumbered with obstacles, the birds still come for the evening ritual. In Leticia, the park is affectionately known by locals simply as Parque de los Loros (Parrot Park), even though its official name is Parque Santander.

Sitting in Parque de los Loros in the beginning of sunset.

As the sun falls and clouds begin to change colors into apricot, the sky fills with uncountable murmurations of these small (roughly 8-inch tall) green Amazonian birds.

As the hour continues to wane, the crescendo of birds calls will wax into a deafening symphony- enough so that any conversation you were having must be put on hold until after sunset, when the birds have found their bedding for the evening.

You might think this process is straightforward—find a branch, tuck in, and settle down. You would be mistaken. As when too many parakeets are settled on a single tree something triggers and all of them explode back into flight- giving a wonderful spontaneous firework display as thousands of birds retake to the air in tandem.

Parakeets are known for mating for life with a single partner- learning to intertwine their songs together forming what is called a “mating duet.” This singing of coordinated vocal duets helps to defend feeding territories and strengthen their bond.

Yet, the parakeets do not have the canopy to themselves. Among the emerald green clouds that still gather here for the nightly slumber, you can also find my favorite songbird of the Amazon, the russet-backed oropendola. With its intricate hanging woven pouch-nests high up in trees, oropendolas are not monogamous and instead have polygynous mating systems within their social structure. This means that a dominant male fathers the chicks of the colony during mating season. In this way, the call of the dominant male oropendola has become something of a phenomenon in and of itself.

The call of an russet-backed oropendola is an incredible mix of a drop of water falling down a well along with some futuristic star-wars shenanigans. Quite difficult to explain. To hit these notes, the roughly 18-inch-tall male uses his entire body. Wings expand outward, the crown of feathers on his head puffs to attention, and he delivers a full, reverent bow from the waist. If a reverent bow does not suit his mood at that moment, then the other option is to do a 180-degree upside-down acrobatic swing, apparently to show off strength and agility - or maybe just for candid bird-fun. The purpose of the calls is to attract mates, to ward off rival male suitors, and warn of danger if need be.

The call of an oropendola. Captured in the early morning.

All of these sounds, displays and murmurations occur while the world lives in sunset penumbra - however once the full curtain of darkness falls, the show has decidedly ended and no encores will be entertained. Each bird has happily tucked itself into its wing blanket for the evening.

Local spectators sitting on park benches, strolling the greens, or even up on the bell-tower of the Catedral de Nuestra Señora de La Paz subconsciously take their cue, politely gather their belongings, and shift to a respectful distance away from the jungle’s beautifully bizarre aviary bedroom.

As I am still enjoying and exploring the universe of the amazon rainforest, please feel free to give me recommendations on nearby places to travel to experience more of this “sana-ni-MUAH.” Or if you’ve had experiences of this feel free to share them below.

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With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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New vision - opening up to the ultimate, it poured into me. No longer an ordinary human being - but one who has transcended. Insight of the whole existence. No longer separate. Integrated. Light and darkness// male and female// positive and negative // complete awe.

This piece is tied to the series: The Day as the Master, however it is not needed to enjoy this section.

Catch Up On - The Day as the Master

Pt. 1 - - Pt. 2 - - Pt. 3 - - Pt. 4.

Other Mystical Non-Fiction

Night Walk - - A New Day - - Meeting The Monkey Mind - - Purging the Self

The visions allowed focus control and creation over the universe. Utterly and forever allowing things to be manifested at will…

As this went on, a releasing of the creation aspect occurred.

I could get one wave of the ocean to begin, look, and sound, and feel exactly as I wanted then could allow/show the ocean how to replicate it as my attention/creation went elsewhere. The ocean would then perpetually create new waves, each a slight variant.

Eventually all focused control became a natural phenomenon such as seeing or hearing - no energy expenditure was required- it was a happening.

This happened until I simply became an observer/witness/watcher as the universe unfolded itself through “my” and “not my” eyes.

At some point I wanted to share.

In wanting to share, I now replicated “me.” A mirror-Self appeared next to me showing a light silhouette within the reflection. We watched as the waves rolled by and the air sung against our skin.

At some point I wanted to share specific things.

I would gesture, ‘do you see?’ And my reflection would gesture, ‘yes. I was looking there.’

I would gesture, ‘Can you feel the ______?’

‘Yes, I was feeling that.’

It was a perfect mirror-echo-reflection-Self, so there was nothing new to it. (although echo is the wrong word. If there were a word for mirrors that are instantaneous for other senses apart from seeing I would use that. I also would not use something so “lifeless” as a mirror. Maybe a clear pond that perfectly reflects as there is life, depth, and resonance there.)

At that thought a soft tornado began around the mirror-Self. This valiant-loving mirror-Self gave omnipotence up for Self-limiting perceptions. This achieved sudden and abrupt wonder and infinite awe through forgetting.

'What are those?’ It would gesture in awe-struck honored-reverent amazement.

'Stars’ I would respond.

‘Wow…’ it was transfixed in utter amazement.

after a time…

‘How?’ It would gesture.

‘Like this~’

And it would understand in awe, that it could not fully understand.

‘Everything is so beautiful’ it would gesture.

‘Yes’

After a time…

'I want to share this’ It gestured.

More mirror tornados appeared, each slightly different, like waves in the sea.

‘Share’ I responded.

The first mirror-tornado-Self went to another and shared perspectives. Each tornado in the interaction changed color slightly as small bits of their debris traded. This continued. More appeared. Each retained the ability to drop its tornado and see it all – without limited-perception – as it truly was.

Then some went very far - near impossible to release the tornado. Addicted and identifying completely with it in a “push to the limits” game.

‘Hmm..’ I thought, ‘that is too far, there may be no coming back from that.’'

I observed in aching-fascination as more followed into the “push to the limits” game.

‘I will pop tornados now’ I thought in loving-compassion.

Then a second thought came.

‘If this is what Self is doing, it is doing it for enjoyment. I allow because I love. They may have forgotten how to drop the tornado, but that is their choice. They will remember when they are ready.’

I observed more.

Mirror-tornado-Selfs would play and experience life by gathering memories, emotions, thoughts and perceptions and turn them into feedback-loops or biases- this looked like collecting debris- to color their tornado and see the world in a particular way. Then they would interact with others, each trading debris and perceptions- sometimes getting more confused or lost as they piled up complexities. Other times some would become more clear as certain bits of debris were shed from both simultaneously. They were finding ways to go in both directions (towards clarity and confusion) by themselves and with each other.

After a time, this birthed an idea.

This incarnation wanted to participate and play- the one who is writing now.

I allow/created a faux tornado around myself to play the game I wanted to play. A ‘null-tornado’ a ‘safe-harbor’- someplace another tornado might go to release debris from their ‘push to the limits game’. However, I would not collect their debris, and I would not add debris to their tornado, but instead would allow them to get closer and closer to true vision as they continued to release. I would inspire them upon the path. I would not ‘pop their tornados’ for them. They could play to their hearts’ content.

I would play also, but in the way I wanted - without compromising myself nor others. Retaining the ability to be “whole” as I played.

I carefully redressed/reconstructed my tornado. I selected everything. Voice, appearance, how others saw me, how I ‘came-off’. Enough to let it be both fun and rewarding. Fully in peace, awe, relaxation, and enjoyment.

We all had embodied god-beings- exploring, discovering, and sharing the world- experiencing awe in the world- awe experiencers- or as my name reminds me: Awe World Experiencer. Some awe experiencers choose to forget even more in order to make the experience serious. Some choose to forget less so, creating a world of easier possibilities. Others chose not to forget, like my new mirror-tornado-Self, who could move in relaxation and enjoyment- walking laughing insight.

Eventually human forms were superimposed over the mirror-tornado-Selfs- as I wanted to see how they would choose to shape/crystalize themselves. They gathered their tornados of Self-limiting-perceptions- which included memories, emotions, thoughts, beliefs, and more then formed them into personalities for bodies. Facial features, hair, clothing, the way they walked, everything.

I watched them for a while, these walking god-bodies, wrapped in tornados, lost in their own games and limiting-perceptions. What astonishing beauty how each chose to crystalize into the world.

Then, because seeing both the mirror-light-silhouette-tornado along with the crystalized form seemed to detract from their game, I chose to allow the mirror-tornados to become invisible. In this way, I could also enjoy the game at the level I wanted- to see them as they saw themselves. All were simply humans and the game began again.

Imagine it, a world made of your own design, that you have chosen to discover by hiding yourself. Everything is you. All things, all people, all experiences. And we are all here- enjoying it in our own way! Heaven - Hell - Earth - Control - Trust - All - simultaneously occuring. And you can drop your tornado at any moment to truly be. One. God, living in God. Not isolated - participating. Free and boundless. A world of possibilities open to you in your imposed self-limitation. An ordinary life full of extraordinary experiences and opportunities.

You don’t have to fight. You can drop your debris-armor-perception whenever you like. Beyond the mind there is the intrinsic awareness. Once you drop the mind you become the master of your own destiny. The entire universe works with you - unbeknownst to you or not.

Share your loves, excitement, and light or fall into silent presence and embody tranquil Oneness.

Live - Love - Be.

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At Last...Another’s Heartbeat
by Marcellus Khaliifah Williams

the silhouettes of their bond visible still at the last glow of the sun
they experience each other and the life of the night as it begins to stir
standing there in silence holding hands
no rush to go back inside
there is so much beauty and comfort in being in love and just being...
- amidst sounds of buzzing
chirps
crickets
the pleasant but irregular blowing of the wind
fireflies dancing in step with the light of the moon
how strange it is to become aware of another's heartbeat but forget one's own-
finally love.

This writing is about my day of enlightenment as experienced on January 16th, 2024 after an extended period of solitude, reflection, and meditation. Afterwhich, I have allowed myself to become transformed - truly relaxing and enjoying this magical life.

It should be noted that there were no substances used during this time apart from herbal teas and tobacco.

This is also not a argument for solipsism, determinism, nor to elevate myself above others.

The sole purpose of this writing is to recollect, without embellishment, what occured on that extraordinary day.

I offer this writing to the sky.

CATCH UP ON THE READING

You can read part 1 of this story here, part 2 here, and part 3 here

You can also read more of my spiritual journyes here.

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And all shall be well,
And all shall be well,
And all manner of things shall be well

- Julian of Norwitch

Eventually, I left Matt with his mermaid visions and continued to walk down State Street.

I was again in the late morning sunlight. Simply flowing along like a starling or a pulsation of water.

While walking in this golden glow, I wished I could taste it - whatever “it” was - experience - the day. What would a warm winter day in Santa Barbara taste like?

At that moment, I thought of citrus: an orange, perhaps a tangerine or mandarin.

Hmm…

A moment later, a man in business attire—wearing a light blue button-up shirt and black slacks—crossed the street and headed toward me, walking directly up to hold out a hand containing a mandarin orange.

“Can I offer you a mandarin?” He cheerfully asked with a smile.

I wasn’t sure how the universe had heard my request, but I accepted the fruit with a matching smile and the man simply nodded and walked on.

I stood for a moment and felt it in my hands, the texture of the peel, the give of the fruit with slight pressure, the little green stub of stem happily perched on top.

I took a moment to peel the fruit where I stood- watching the little mist of citrus spark from the flesh- bathed in light and enjoying watching and feeling life as it passed me by.

I took a beautiful bite of the sweet sunshine citrus and fell into flavor. The taste of winter in Santa Barbara. I closed my eyes, breathed in fresh air and let my palate sing to me of the lives of orchards- of wind through leaves, sunshine and rain- flowers and bees- rich earth and gentle hands. I was swept away on an oceanic experience through a single nourishing fruit.

I laughed as tears formed and sat on my cheeks. What a simple thing- to simply taste a fruit, fully. Magical. Ecstasy.

I continued my walk when other senses began to become more involved.

With the clouds serene, sun and moon are precisely seen

- Zen Capping Phrase

Less than a block later I was being seduced by fragrance. There was a sweetness in the air- soft, delicate, warm, comforting, enticing. As the smell drifted toward me, I drifted toward it- like magnets or a bee to a flower- allured and invited. I eventually found 5 incense sticks lit with little ribbons of smoke dancing/twirling in the breeze toward me- their thin whorls delightfully billowing from about 6 feet up a tree. The sticks contentedly nestled among the bark.

I stood a few feet away just watching them- observing their tricks and trails as they frolicked in the air. My body swayed and mimicked their soft graceful movements like a golden leaf falling from a ginkgo tree. They smelled of sandalwood - of warm temples - of soft mornings and ease. They brought me to laughing softness - like feathers against the skin - or like warm summer moonlight against soft cotton. I was transfixed until a rhythm started nearby.

A mix of “swoosh” and “scratch” that was so regular and predictable that my body began to match the sound by swaying with it. I looked to my right and there was a man there sweeping the sidewalk with a classic corn broom. He was dressed in distressed, faded blue jeans, a cream hemp henley shirt, brown Rainbow sandals, and dusty-blond windswept hair and beard framing his tanned, weathered face. Casually, happily, and meditatively sweeping debris from the nearby storefront.

Just like the mandarin and the incense I took full beauty and delight in the way the interaction played with my senses. I could hear the broom as a whole and I could hear each individual bristle. The rhythm irregularities of the bristles enhancing the experience. All of the subtle tones found in the sweep. Even the “swoosh” of air between contact had a musical quality to it. That simple act was a symphony experience for my ears - a piece so beautiful and flawless that Dmitri Shostakovich would have been forever inspired to replicate it.

Eventually I met the man’s pale blue horizon eyes.

“Ya like the incense?” he said, somewhere between a statement and a question.

“Yes.”

“I put ‘em there.”

“Oh… They’re incredible.”

“They sell ‘em inside.” He gestured with his tanned weathered hand, “Take a look.”

I nodded and walked into the store.

The Singing Bowl
by Malcolm Guite

Begin the song exactly where you are,
Remain within the world of which you’re made.
Call nothing common in the earth or air,

Accept it all and let it be for good.
Start with the very breath you breathe in now,
This moment’s pulse, this rhythm in your blood

And listen to it, ringing soft and low.
Stay with the music, words will come in time.
Slow down your breathing. Keep it deep and slow.

Become an open singing-bowl, whose chime
Is richness rising out of emptiness,
And timelessness resounding into time.

And when the heart is full of quietness
Begin the song exactly where you are.

I don’t have the words for how astonished in beauty I was when I entered. It was as if I walked into the glittering mausoleum of Shāh Chérāgh. I was completely taken aback.

The store was a Shri-Lankan apparel store called, “Namaste.” Within was a maelstrom of infinite colors, textures, amber lights, rich walnut flooring and walls. There were crystals, singing bowls, incense, jewelry, tapestries, and much more. As I walked I touched- silk, cotton, linen, cashmere, pashmina, copper bowls, brass plates, warm wood. My fingers explored textures smooth as rose petals and intricate as kaleidoscopes and mandalas.

I picked up a singing bowl in my left hand and lightly flicked it with my right index finger. The vibrations pulsated through me like daffodil laughter from the chest. I then tapped it with the wooden mallet that was placed next to it. From my toenails to my teeth and the very ends of my hair coursed a sunrise electricity that would have sent birds into song and flowers into full bloom.

“Let me show you,” said a calm soft voice- gentle as chamomile.

I turned and saw a short dark haired, middle aged woman in gold jewelry and dark reverent planets for eyes next to me. Wordlessly I offered her the bowl and mallet. She deftly took it and simply as sand from an hourglass rotated the mallet around the rim.

The bowl sliced through the air like rain and crescendoed into a deluge of pure marigold sound. As if a portal opened from easy clouds, sunshine lapped forth and spotlighted a meadow teeming with meandering butterflies.

“Place your head here.” She gestured and I slowly bowed my head above the bowl to look down into its vibrating well.

If there was a word for what it feels like to taste honey for the first time while simultaneously watching a full moon rise over a glittering ocean I would use that word here.

When the bowl had finished its dance the woman said, “now you.”

She handed me back the bowl and I performed the same ritual I had just seen. This time she bowed her head into the bowl. My body felt draped in sunlight, then in silk and then cashmere. My eyes felt bright as diamonds, my hands felt as though they had just thrown thunderbolts.

When the bowl again stopped, the woman and I stood up straight and simply looked at each other with easy sparkling eyes and light smiles.

The store’s phone rang and she bowed a farewell and walked behind the counter to answer it.

Come to the orchard, in Spring.
There is light, and wine, and sweethearts
in the pomegranate flowers.

If you come, these do not matter.
If you do not come, these do not matter.

- Jalal al-Din Muhammad Rumi

I stood in the same spot. Feeling my hands and fingertips tingle like bubbles cascading upward. A place in my chest was happily swirling light green, pale yellow, and pink. My body was swaying like a kelp forest in Caribbean blue water. I stood enjoying the sensation for a while before another customer approached me from behind.

“Let me show you how to work that,” he said. He was in his early 20’s. Black band hoodie, black cap, short dark hair, dark jeans, Ray-Ban sunglasses.

I turned, blinked at him, smiled, and handed him the singing bowl that was still in my hands.

He tried to get it to begin vibrating by rotating the mallet around the rim.

I watched.

After about 20 seconds of trying he proclaimed, “ah, it’s broken.” He flicked up his sunglasses to reveal green eyes.

“Turn the mallet around.” I recommended.

“What?”

“It’s upside down.”

Apparently misunderstanding, he handed me back the bowl. I took the mallet, turned it around, and began to make the bowl sing again. Then I passed it back to him with a smile.

“You had it right, the mallet was just upside down.”

“Hmm”

He took it and began to make the bowl reverently sing. It was beautiful.

I continued to look through the store and enjoy the colors, fabrics, weights of items, and all of the designs before the store owner approached me again.

“Your store is so beautiful.” I said with simple sing-song words.

“Yes,” she smiled back at me, “I am here every day, so it must be beautiful for me.”

I nodded in agreement with her statement and then asked, “What are your favorite things here?”

“They’re all my favorite!” She said with a starlight laugh.

She then spoke to me for a while. I learned about her coming to Santa Barbara from Sri Lanka. I learned about her sons who lived nearby- one was an accountant in town and the other was a chef at Sushi Teri in nearby Carpinteria. We spoke about her homes in Sri Lanka and how her time has been in Santa Barbara. The things she missed about home, local foods, we spoke for at least an hour. Her store phone would ring, and she would ignore it for the conversation. I would happily sway and play in the conversation with presence, attentiveness, questions, and comments. It felt more of a dance than a conversation. Towards the end she let me know that if I ever went to Sri Lanka she would have a free place for me to stay. I promised I would let her know if I was ever in that part of the world. Eventually, I thanked her for the conversation and the fact that she created such a beautiful store and I walked back into the Santa Barbara warm sunshine.

This story continues in The Day as The Master (pt. 5)

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Awe World Experiencer

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• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

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• Love’s Traveler

• beingSelf

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Self-portrait, 2021. West Camino Cielo, Santa Barbara, California.

Good day! An old high school friend reached out this week over Instagram and asked me how I have been the last ~15/16 years. What my story was. It took me some time, but I wrote it out and sent it to him.

After writing it all down I decided that perhaps I could share it with you as well in the interest of inspiring self-reflection and self-compassion. Maybe I could redefine universal cruelty into something more benevolent- awe. Or maybe I could simply share with you my story.

Anyway, this is the letter I wrote back to him—and to anyone meandering through their own metamorphosis.

I hope you enjoy,

With all of my love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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Kyuho’s Message and my Inital Response

… my definition of cruel is now different from what it used to be. “Cruel” for me used to mean a malicious action inflicted upon someone without regard for their well-being, and seemingly for no gain.

Now, as I have become older and more in touch with the universe, “cruel” has become “epiphany manifest”—a life change that does not live only in the mind, but manifests in the physical world. It is true that this kind of “cruelty” doesn’t account for an individual’s projected desires, but it does honor the soul’s true desires, acting as a “course correction” from the universe. So in the end, I see it as a benevolent action that considers the future well-being of the individual for the ultimate gain of the soul.

High School Graduation Photo

My Full Response to Kyuho.

After Garces High School: That summer I went to a music festival and I took both mushrooms (for the first time) and ecstasy (also for the first time) together. Taking both substances at the same time is called a “hippy flip”. I think it is because it turns your world upside down. The reason why I took them was actually out of spite. I was angry for some trivial reason against my high school girlfriend, LB, who was at the music festival with me—though honestly, I was probably just angry at myself.

(Again, this was the summer after Garces—I was a smart enough kid, but never applied myself, I didn’t apply to any colleges, didn’t know what I was going to do, I was just looking for the next directional step in life.) Physically in life, I am highly myopic with a -7.25 correction for both eyes. Essentially, unless something is right in front of me, it is nearly impossible for me to understand it. I think this physical trait also became a symbolic trait for how I lived life- emotionally, spiritually, etc.. And at this time in life, empathy was the piece that was blurry, and due to the hippy flip, was about to get an abrupt course correction.

The hippy flip did its trick. That entire day, whenever I looked at someone in their eyes, I saw life as they saw it. I suddenly developed all of their preferences for myself, and I felt what they felt. It was utterly profound and bizarre in the highest degree.

There were moments where I had a fondness for the flavor of banana, and then I looked at someone else’s eyes and the flavor of banana made me want to vomit. That’s just a single example. But I would gather ALL of that person’s preferences and embody them.

The way I described it to other people later on was like flipping through a phonebook with a coin-sized hole cut down the middle that went to the very last page. The last page contained my preferences and views on life, and while flipping through this infinite phonebook, I could still see some of “who I was,” but 95% of what I was experiencing was another person’s mind and heart. This lasted the entire day until I went to sleep. The next day it would start and stop sporadically. For the next two weeks it would come and go randomly. It was like stepping into a complete embodiment of empathy.

From there things changed rapidly.

Photos from senior year of high school.

I made it back to Bakersfield, but was given an opportunity to go to Santiago, Chile to help my older brother out with his newly expanded restaurant and bar. I decided to go. LB was heartbroken at the idea. She and I had been together for the last 3 years of high school. She didn’t accept any of her university offers because I think she wanted to go with me to wherever I was going—I was honest with her that I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I was never transparent with my emotions (as I never learned how to articulate them), but in hindsight, I was honestly worried, scared, and sad underneath the veil of teenage indifferent confidence.

Before leaving to Chile, I looked at my life. Critically. You can blame it on the hippy flip, but I suddenly didn’t know who I was, what I was cultivating, and why. I saw all of my possessions as worthless masks and shells to hide me from who I truly was. I didn’t know my own value. I knew my “projected value” based on these things, but there was no sustenance behind them. I decided to sell everything on donations. In this way, I wanted to quantifiably see how much the world valued me through my possessions. I packed up all of my things, grabbed a shade tarp, and took my parents’ car to an undeveloped intersection where cars drove by and set everything up. Donations accepted. “Want a shirt? Ok. What do you think it is worth? A dollar. Ok, it’s yours.”

I sold everything that day. All my guitars, all my clothing, everything. I left with about $150 and a flattened McDonald’s hamburger, which I didn’t eat, that someone traded me for a jacket. I took that money, went to the thrift store, and bought some generic clothing that held no value for me except that it could keep me warm. I packed my things that week and went to Chile feeling ready to experience everything for the first time.

First month in Chile- this photo is after the summit and decent of Volcano Villarica in Pucon, Chile.

Chile was a whirlwind. I had to learn Spanish. I had to learn a new culture. I had to learn how to drink alcohol—as I never drank in high school. I had to learn how to work in my brother’s sports bar/restaurant. I had to learn who my brother was (as he is 13 years older than me, so I didn’t really have any memories of us growing up together.) I had to learn that even though he was my “brother,” the role that he embodied at this time was to be my “boss,” so we didn’t really get close. There wasn’t much love and compassion there; I think it was just an opportunity that we were both exploiting.

That became the theme of the next part too.

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The crew of California Cantina, 2009. Santiago, Chile.

LB came to Santiago about a month after me to work in the sports bar/restaurant too. The problem was I felt changed and different. I felt like I was discovering this next step in my myopic journey. Looking back, I did feel the lack of love at this time from both the external and internal. My internal compassion hadn’t been developed yet, so there was a void there—maybe that’s why I agreed that she should come down even though I didn’t know if I wanted to be in a relationship with her anymore. Maybe I just wanted that friendship. We had always been close, but the month away—the hippy flip, the change of clothing, the change of country, the drinking—everything was throwing me into a maelstrom of figuring out who I was, although I think universe was more interested in shedding everything I was first before true self-discovery. So, honestly, at this point in my life, I was probably more of an insensitive, manipulative jerk than anything. We drifted, because I was forcing that drift. She was kind, gentle, soft, patient—and I took advantage of that in the way a lost, self-indulgent teenager might. I wanted her around for the comfort of having her around, for the knowing that someone loved me, for all of the selfish reasons—and I did not give her the love that she deserved.

Eventually we broke up—this again would be my fault, my insensitivity, and my flirting with other women. Our breakup broke me more. I became more lost and more stripped down. I was angry and wanted even more of a change.

Traditional Chinese medicine calls anger the general of all emotions. It actually is held in high regard as its purpose is to facilitate change from one state to another. As a super stripped-down example, if you are sitting down and suddenly feel thirsty (a state of discomfort), all of the actions leading up to you finally quelling your thirst were done out of “anger.”

However, if you never learned to understand the difference between your body being thirsty and your body wanting to use the restroom, the discomfort you might feel may be wrongly diagnosed. This for me was a common occurance, since I couldn’t recognize my emotions and heart-needs I simply made other changes that did not allieviate the discomfort.

So the discomfort grew, anger rose, and I made another change.

What my heart wanted was probably to be alone, isolation, recognition of emotions, self-compassion, softness, gentleness, acceptance, and peace. However, again at this time, I did not have the resources, the vocabulary, the idea, the “know-how” to really just sit with myself and feel. Instead, I was restless in my discomfort, always wanting to “do something” to fix it—to be busy.

Eventually, I found the right combination that bridged that gap for me.

Hiking Torres del Paine, Chile. 2011.

I left the sports bar/restaurant and worked as a seismic driller in Punta Arenas, Chile, deep in Patagonia for a summer. $20/day + food and lodging. Hours were from 5am-11pm. Deep wilderness. No place to spend money. No reception. It was a good experience. That style of isolation, work, and nature suited me well. I was absorbed in tasks for many hours every day, but there also was a huge amount of downtime where I didn’t have phone service, a book, nor someone to talk to (my Spanish was still developing, so conversations were limited to what was necessary). In those times of forced “non-doing,” I learned how to simply be with myself, simply relax, let my mind quietly drift, review the past, feel my emotions, and begin being in states of non-judgmental experience. After a few months, I quit and hitchhiked and traveled my way back north to Santiago.

I began to work at my brother’s restaurant again. I saved a little money. I got a Chilean girlfriend—who became a long-term and long-distance girlfriend. Things were good, got better, but somehow things still did not feel complete. Eventually, I left again to travel.

During this time, I was learning more and more about Buddhism. Reading philosophy, contemplating famous quotes. Things started to open up for me in the realm of actual self-discovery and internal peace- though I hadn’t discovered who I was yet. I still wasn’t able to articulate emotions so mine were still foreign to me.

Peru with my brother, Tim. 2012.

At some point, I convinced my younger brother to come meet me in Peru for his summer break. I figured that he could use some time away from Bakersfield.

During our travels, we made our way to Iquitos, Peru (where I am currently), and in a style of synchronicity that could only have been universally aligned, we ended up in a shaman’s hut in the middle of the rainforest having an ayahuasca ceremony. (A shattering descent into endless kaleidoscopic realms—where everything breathed as one living light, perpetual death and rebirth, meeting skeletons of my own lineage, and ultimately standing before the vast, glittering expanse of The Everything to choose between absolute, solitary omniscience or the messy, beautiful gift of human connection.) You can read about that here. But I found the answers—all of them. More importantly though, I found the questions that could keep me staring myself in the eye. I also walked away with the ability to help people without assisting them, but you’ll have to read the article to understand what that means.

After the ceremony, one of the participants, Alex Gordon, invited me to come and stay with him in Santa Barbara, California. He said he had an apartment and he wanted to offer the space to me as a landing pad if I wanted to go to school at Santa Barbara City College. He knew I was traveling a bunch, but felt that I should get a degree before I got too old for school. It was an inexpensive option with a friend to delve back into academics. I accepted.

Photos from Santa Barbara around 2012.

I enjoyed Santa Barbara. Schooling was good for me. My stories were unique. I made friends easily. I studied everything. I eventually got Associate of Arts (AA) degrees in Liberal Arts, Accounting, Economics, and maybe one or two more.

During that time, my long-term, long-distance Chilean girlfriend came to visit. She wanted to get married, but I still hadn’t discovered who I was. I still didn’t know my own emotions, my own mind, my own arousal template, nor my subconscious. I declined the idea of marriage. Eventually we broke up, as I wasn’t willing to commit to anyone that deeply yet—I was probably more committed to understanding myself—and long-distance was a strain. She is now happily married in Germany to a doctor and has a couple of beautiful children. I am very happy for her.

I dated a few more people for quite a while. What I can now say is something akin to serial monogamy. I found value for myself in the eyes of others and specifically in the eyes of my partner, so I was never single for very long. (Honestly, between the ages of 13 and 25, I was probably single for a total of 5 months, the majority of that being in forced isolation in Patagonia.)

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Photos from 2016.

When I was 25, something strange happened. Probably as catalytic as the hippy flip for my life. My back got injured and I met a neurological chiropractor who fixed it, but also opened something else—my brain’s right hemisphere.

During one of our last sessions after my back was in alignment again, he offered to take a look at my brain and use his unique skill set to see how things were functioning.

“Wow, I don’t see this very often,” he commented as he finished his tests, “honestly, I only really ever see this in accountants.” (Funnily enough, I was an accountant for a 5-star resort at this time, but he didn’t know this.) “Your left hemisphere is completely dominant and your right hemisphere is severely underdeveloped.”

“Funny you say that, I am an accountant.”

“That makes sense. Do you listen to music while you work?” He asked with a little smile.

“Yes.”

“Every time you work? All day, every day?”

I thought about it, “Yes. Yes.”

“Do you know why?”

“Because I like music?”

“Try working a day without music and we can chat.”

I tried. It was terrible. I couldn’t get any work done. I returned to him the next day.

“The reason why you can’t get any work done is because music is acting as the stimulus to allow your right hemisphere to communicate with your left hemisphere. You removed the stimulus. Your brain can’t communicate.”

“How do we fix it?” I asked, expecting an adjustment like the one he made on my back—or maybe he would recommend some pills like a medical doctor so I could go on.

“I can really only prescribe a few things,” he said, “listen to Bach, don’t do any work, but just enjoy the music. Journal. Create art. Play music. Paint. Find ways to activate your right brain.”

What he was prescribing was applying an atelic lens on life to compliment the telic lens that I had always looked through. Could I enjoy a thing for the thing itself, not for the purpose or end result of it?

Santa Barbara Mountains, 2019

I left that session with a new lens and began. I bought The Artist’s Way and began journaling for the first time in my life. I started painting. I listened to music without trying to achieve anything. A month later, I quit my job as an accountant.

I began working with people again at night in high-end restaurants. During the daylight hours, I was making art, playing music, journaling, and meditating.

I also got a job at an international school where I taught their music program for about 7 years. I created and instructed their Guitar class and a Rap Deconstructed class. It was a very fun job! Classes were maxed at 17 students, the kids really wanted to be there, I got to see so many people flourish at what they truly loved to do. What was really beautiful is that they also sought me out just to spend time with me, wanting to chat, or just be in my presence. I suppose this is what Mr. Workman and Mr. Jamison felt like at Garces. It was very heartwarming.

During that time period I developed my 4 pillars of being a master teacher. Inspiration. Encouragement. Allowing. Realizing. We can talk about that another time.

Skip ahead a few years. Relationships came and went. My artistic talent grew. Self-discovery continued.

Covid happened and suddenly I could take even more time for myself to figure out what I wanted to really do with my time. At this point I started making murals with spraypaint out in the wilderness. I’ll upload some photos!

Then the next big life change happened.

Murals, 2020. West Camino Cielo, Santa Barbara, California.

I got into a relationship with a girl who was beautiful in 97% of every way. But the remaining 3% was a trove of deceit, lies, manipulation, gaslighting, and emotional abuse. I was completely in love, but didn’t know the poison that was getting slowly injected into me.

Eventually, that relationship exploded in catastrophic and catalytic agony. It was so bad that for the first time in my life, I went to therapy, and this, like the hippy flip and like the neurological chiropractor, changed my life completely.

Therapy was an interesting experience. I wasn’t trying to convince anyone of my “side”, I was simply met where I was and asked pertinent questions in patience, compassion, and presence. It was incredible. There was no goal except to go through it, feel it, name it, be heard. Truly life changing.

I developed literacy with my own emotions. For the first time in my life, I could simply feel without judgment. I read books like Atlas of the Heart by Brené Brown. I was learning who I was.

Skip ahead a few years. A few therapists, a new girlfriend, couples therapy, transparency, more art, more journaling, more philospophy, more meditating, more self-discovery. Then it hit.

Contemplation in 2023.

I don’t know how to describe it, but the first weeks of 2024, when I was 32, I took a two-week period of solitude and sat with myself. (Meeting the Monkey Mind, Purging the Self) In that silent sitting and meditation, everything clicked. Every last shred was stripped away. I became bare. My identity, ego, memories, and preferences evaporated into nothingness. I looked at the world and saw people not as static silhouettes, but as mirrors reflecting Self, engulfed in swirling tornadoes of emotions and memories. Then my own mirror disappeared, I opened my heart-mouth completely, and I consumed the universe whole—stepping into the vast, radiant realization of The Enjoyment of Life. I can honestly say that everything became clear, and I knew myself thoroughly. Completely. I clicked into enlightenment. You can read about that here.

I found myself. I found it all- laughing with me. My heart was completely released and it blazed unabashed like a roaring bonfire—eliminating everything that wasn’t “true to me.” Just like in the past, I got rid of everything, but this time it wasn’t to see what the world thought or because I didn’t know who I was—it was the opposite. All the extra shells and masks. The clothing that didn’t serve me. I changed my name. I stopped trying to live for anyone else and began living entirely for me and the universe. Again, this is hard to describe over a few sentences; I recommend you read more of the Substack if you are interested.

Concerning my name change:

I took the name Awe for a number of reasons- one of them being as a reminder of the “cruel beauty” of the universe. I find awe to be an intersting word in English, as depending on the quantity/quality you receive it changes its connotation. So when you get some awe the word becomes: awesome. However, if you receive a full dose of awe, the word becomes aweful.

As I consider any amount of awe to be an inherently good thing, I welcome both the awesome and the aweful in my life with the understanding that it is the way the universe communicates directly with us and, as a side note, I believe that experiencing awe is the purpose of life.

We can talk more about that another time.

A sketch of how I saw reality in my day of enlightenment. - Mirrors of light facing me, with tornados of thoughts, feelings, memories, preferences. June 16, 2024

Now I’ve been traveling for a couple of years. Fully embodied in this flame. I’ve published 7 books, written 11. I’ve written hundreds of Substack articles. I’ve started a spiritual coaching website. I’ve even been in plays as an actor.

Now, I meet a lot of people. I make made a lot of friends. I help others with their problems if they ask and seem to create burning epiphanies wherever I go. I am happily single. I am no longer looking for anything. I am calm, confident, and free. I am compassionate, kind, and gentle. I am full of presence, patience, and love.

I still write in journals. I make art. I make my own clothing. I create beautiful meals. I play music. I dance. I dance a lot—sometimes there is no music—most of the time there are no other dancers—sometimes there is an audience—most of the time not. Really, I am just moving, flowing, and laughing from someplace deep in my chest where words don’t reach.

It is a beautiful life.

So that is my story, my old friend—sixteen years— cruel and utterly blissfully beautiful yet now fully in focus.

PS. There are a few more stories I could tell you: surviving both the 8.8 earthquake in Chile in 2010 and the Montecito Mudslides in 2018. I could tell you about the time my life was saved by an egg in Ecuador in 2011. I could tell you about loves had and lost- friends who have come and gone. Deaths. Pursuits began, failures, accomplishments, and much more, but let’s save that for another time.

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With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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Lightning crackles towards the full moon
The storm ignites the heavens’ lumiferious aether

I believe that we have two journeys that we go on in this life. The journey of understanding who we are as individuals and the journey that we have to understand who we are as “Consciousness.”

I feel like purpose comes from freeing ourselves from the games of others to understand who we are and what this experience is.

I am going to use this platform to write about this as succinctly as I can and attempt to explain along the way the ineffable experience in symbolism.

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Concepts:

Individual Consciousness - a singular breathing being which has its own thoughts, desires, autonomy. This consciousness gets experiences through lineraly traveling through time.

Grand Consciousness - all individual consciousnesses as a singular entity. This being gets to experience everything all together at once. However, it “lives” on a plane where the limitation of time does not exist- all things have already happened in all of their infinite variations.

Games: the things that we as individual consciousnesses use to play and learn about ourselves and others. Experiences in time that give quanitifiable meaning.

Hierarchy: The game of status. This game develops the rules of “right and wrong” through an external source away from the individual.

Projections: baises, stories, lies etc.. that an individual has wrapped itself in to perpetuate a certain way of thinking.

Self-Limitation: The ability/illusion of consciousness to focus.

Floor: the place where all of existence interacts with all of existence in games. In the individual level this can look like interactions with others.

Roof: Isolation from the floor and from games. The place where magic happens- radical insights and transformations occur here. This is where the Grand Consciousness and Individual Consciousnesses can have moments of integration.

Life, as we know it, begins at the individual level.

A singular consciousness moving and growing through time and experience to learn about its own preferences and enjoyments. As time progresses, the individual begins to lose themselves in the games of society—these games are that of separation through hierarchy, distinguishing oneself by “bettering” or “progressing.” For now, let’s call this stage the “floor” of existence. It simply is where everything and everyone is interacting with each other and playing out their games.

Exhaustion/Catalyst

As this continues, at some point the game of societal “bettering” or “progressing” simply becomes exhausting, and the individual yearns to rest in isolation.

Going Up

In a sudden radical acceptance of their own desire—placing that above the collective’s constant pull—this individual begins to separate themselves from the games of themselves and of others, finding time to retreat into solitude. For now, we can call this the “roof” of existence: a place where interactions are simply observed and not participated in.

Roof Arrival

Alone and away from all of its own games and the games of others, this individual begins to see through all of the Self-Imposed Projections that it and others created and played within.

At some point, there is a moment where the individual finally clears all of its own games, intentions, stories, biases, and lies. In doing so, the games and intentions of others become transparent and null. This in Buddhism is called Nirvana—literally translated to “blowing out”—and can be seen as the moment of enlightenment. (During this point, the individual may become aware of “The Grand Consciousness”—we will get into that later.)

After everything is cleared, there comes a moment where a decision must be made: stay on the roof and remain forever isolated in enlightenment, or reintegrate back into society.

Coming Down

Again through radical acceptance of now “others,” this individual begins to climb down from the roof to rejoin the rest of society on the floor, with the clear understanding that acceptance of others does not have to mean participation in the games of others.

Enjoying the Floor

This cleared individual now plays on the floor of life, but without the need for hierarchy. They simply play and participate in the games that they wish to, with radical acceptance of themselves and of others.

This mimics nearly the exact same movement of the Grand Consciousness in its eternal game.

The Grand Consciousness participates on the floor of life and plays all games of experience through everything in existence at the same time- with innocent peace, love, and pride for all of creation. All things have already happened in all of their infinite variations, and they all lead back to it in the end.

Going Up

At some point, through the power and illusion of Self-Limitation, the Grand Consciousness stops playing all games through all beings and begins to head toward the roof.

(Note: Before linear time exists, this “movement” is not temporal, but rather a state of unmanifest potential or a timeless contraction of focus—like an infinite ocean deciding to form a single, focused wave.)

Roof Arrival

At the roof, the Grand Consciousness contracts itself into an Individuality (an Individual Duality, Spirit, or Individual Consciousness) in order to play games with itself, separate from itself, as a new variable.

Coming Down

Through Self-Limitation—which in this case means descending into the constraints of time and experience—the Grand Consciousness births the mechanism of linear time, allowing the individual spirit to truly grow.

Enjoying the Floor

Back on the floor of experience, it is now discovering its individual nature and preferences through all of existence as a separate yet complete part of itself. Because a brand-new variable has been added to creation, all things get to happen again in entirely new, infinite variations.

Conclusion

The point of it all is to be able to enjoy holding both of these truths at the same time: understanding your role as the individual and as the Grand Consciousness expressing itself through you.

You are an individual—a full expression of the universe given the gifts of:

• Time (to grow and have experiences)

• Preferences (to see the world in a unique way)

• Self-reflection (the ability to isolate and understand your uniqueness)

• Autonomy (the ability to make your own life choices, decisions, and moral rules without outside pressure)

At the exact same time, you are the Grand Consciousness expressing itself through the illusion of Self-Limitation.

The possibilities for you to enjoy life are endless. You have full authority over your reality. You get to grow, expand, live, and develop meaning for anything you choose.

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With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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If you want to know who you really are, remove everything you that thought you were and see what’s left.

- Journal Entry 2024

Good day! Today I want to take a moment to celebrate a milestone in my life. My finding of another way to expand further into my life and to continue to offer myself as nourishment for the world.

I hope you enjoy!

With all my love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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I am not here to heal you. I am not here to fix you. I accept you. I am here to be with you through the process. I can provide words, spirit, energy, patience, and love. Life is simple, pure, and full of awe.

Happiness and Freedom

It is said that if you want to be happy in life, do what you love and find a way for people pay you for it. Put another way, find a way to be paid for doing something that you would happily do for free.

I’ve been lucky to have found multiple professions that I enjoy doing even without the promise of payment. Writing happens to be one of those things; music, art, and creating space for others to hone their skills are a few of the other ways. However, my favorite thing to do, that I have been doing for free for years, is now also being offered to the world as a paid profession.

If you happen to stumble upon me in my travels you may notice that I spend a lot of time with other people listening. Gently being with them in presence, and offering questions or words of reframing to move stagnant energy along. People have been so delighted by this that I frequently receive gifts and words of thanks. Here are a couple of examples:

Śrī Awe The World Experiencer Gītā

Thus have I seen him, Oh Sri Awe not as a man among men, but as a still axis around which the odd and restless world turns and forgets itself.

O time doth not cling to him as dust to the traveler; But still a traveler he is

This flicker of moments bow, circles, and dissolves like mist before the inward sun that reigns divine within Him

Within there is the orchard before the fruit appears seed knowing sweetness without haste, without hunger.

He moves not to conquer the wind, for what is wind to one who has known the breath before breath? He lets it pass through him as the Ganga through the plains unresisted, unpossessed.

Hear this: speech arises in him only when silence has ripened into truth. Words are not cast they are consecrated.

His mind is a temple not built, but revealed pillars of discernment, thresholds of luminous pause. Few may enter, yet none are turned away who arrive without noise.

O child of becoming, you ask: “Who is this—Mr. Awe The World Experiencer?”

He is the reminder that stillness is not absence, but origin.

He is the gardener who tends not the visible field, but the root beneath all names

and in his presence the clamor of the age falls like a forgotten mantra,

until even you remember

how to be.

“Healers heal people. Master teach others to heal. Mystics remind you that you are already healed.” - Aubry Marcus

To: The Man of Light

There are souls who enter quietly, / yet somehow fill every room. / not with noise, / not with force, / but with a light so divine / that hearts remember who they are.

You carry that light. / A light reaches places the world cannot always see, / guiding people back to something they once knew ~ / the wonder of a child, / the innocence of an open heart, / the simple joy of being / alive.

You teach without demanding, / lead without controlling, / and speak with a wisdom / that feels older than time.

Your message is love, / your message is compassion, / and every word your heart offers, / becomes a doorway home.

I have watched you hold space for those who arrived. / with your voice, / your presence, / your energy, / you created safety. / and in that safety, / people opened. / I opened.

You didn’t ask me to tell you everything, / and somehow I did. / Not because you demanded it. / but because your kindness made truth feel welcome. / your presence became healing, / and your understanding became medicine.

There is something beautiful about the way you move through this world. / a smile that reaches your eyes. / a warmth that embraces everyone, / a spirit that reminds us / that life was never meant to be so heavy.

You teach us to live again / with curiosity, / with wonder, / with the freedom of children / who have not forgotten how to love. / And because of this, / people are drawn to you. / Not to follow a man, / but to follow the light and the joy, / that shines through you.

I want you to know this: / I believe in your mission. / I believe in your path. / I believe in the love you bring to every life you touch.

And wherever that path may lead, / know that I stand with you.

If you ever need me, / I will be there. / Not out of obligation, / but out of gratitude. / for you helped me to remember / what was already inside me. / you heal me, / you see me. Your path is clear, / your purpose is strong.

And though challenges may come, / nothing can stand against a heart that serves with such love.

So continue, dear teacher…

Continue shining. / Continue reminding the world that compassion is strength, / that love is wisdom, / and that the child within us was never lost.

I am proud of you. / I honor you. / I believe in what you are creating. / And it is understood. / You are loved. / You are seen. / And your light will continue to guide many home.

~K.

Purpose in Presence

This way of being was seen, understood, and then bloomed from me. When I had my day of enlightenment, all of my internal “games” evaporated. The frantic anxieties, the endless desire of chasing status, the exhausting fear of not being completely transparent with myself and others—it all fell away. Radical acceptance and accountability blossomed out of me, and I became entirely present.

Purpose encompassed me at that time, and it was more than simple action, it was purposeful being. I saw what happens when I simply am and how that affects others. Life had untangled itself from me- or maybe a better way to say it is, life and I were now in perfect harmony and communion. I no longer had to struggle, I just could relax and enjoy- all while life would continued to blossom majestically in front of me. What did that mean for my interactions with others? Exactly the same thing.

After verifying with my therapist that I hadn’t simply lost my mind, I was reassured that what I had experienced was a full, authentic numinous experience—a state of consciousness well-documented across human history. My therapist’s response then was simple and grounding: “Congratulations, you did it.”

A few days later, a deeply spiritual friend of mine asked me The Question:

“Now that everything has shifted for you, how would you actually like to spend your time? What is the height of experience for you?”

I took a moment to consider what would bring me the absolute greatest joy, experience, and honor.

“To be invited into other people’s homes to sit and have tea.”

“Haha, okay. Why?” She asked.

“Because I feel it is perhaps the most intimate thing you can do with another person. To be welcomed into the physical representation of their inner world—their home. The space they have cultivated, the sanctuary where they collect representations of their ideals, the place where they drop the status games and do not have to put on a show.

“I love the idea of arriving simply as a friend to share a cup of tea. Being shown items around the house if they wish, or talking about real, unhurried things. Allowing myself to be completely present without bringing any weight of my own world into the space.

“I imagine these quiet hours unfolding naturally. Soft conversations, gentle gestures, moments of easy stillness. If a host feels stuck or carries weight they consider ‘wrong’ or difficult, I can listen and understand from their unique point of view. Perhaps offering a fresh perspective if they desire it, or using my affinity for poetic language—analogies and metaphors—to illuminate the symbolic meaning behind what they are moving through.

“In that environment, there is nothing more important than what the presence and the conversation require. That is how I want to spend my life. Getting to know people. Calmly. Softly. Intimately. With utter presence.”

“Anyone can make the simple complicated. A true artist can make the complicated simple.”

- Charles Mingus

Healing with Awe

While my many travels may mean that we will not be sitting across from each other at your kitchen table, I have found a way to bring that spirit of intimacy, tea, and unhurried presence into a digital space for you.

So, if you’ve ever wished for a safe harbor—someone to sit with you without an agenda, without trying to “fix” you, and away from the static noise of the hustle-culture coaching world—I want to offer this space to you. There is no need to prepare a presentation of your problems. You can just show up as you are- raw, unfiltered, authentic.

I have launched Healing with Awe, my dedicated virtual container that I host over Zoom. When you book, I simply close off that week for you- 1 client a week. Use it in whatever way is most comfortable for you: you can book just a single mellow hour to talk and breathe, and as things progress and develop we can continue to delve (up to 3 hours a day, 5 days a week). There are no strings, no continuous text-thread obligations—it is just a focused, intentional video session where we sit, we talk, and simply be present.

My role is simply to provide a quiet, unhurried mirror—a steady and soft presence that helps encourage you into relaxed, purposeful being.

This feels like the most natural, organic evolution of my life’s path, and I am deeply honored to share it with you.

Ready to experience this for yourself?

Click here to visit Healing with Awe to check it out! You can view availability, learn more about how we can share time together, and if you feel called you may reserve a week.

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Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoyed!

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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• poems for grace

• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

• Inner Children at Play

• Love’s Traveler

• beingSelf

• Stack Stones

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Allow the universe to shape itself around you.

- Journal Entry, June 2026

Good day! I wanted to share a small writing I put together earlier today. It was nice to write, and I hope it will be nice to read.

I hope you enjoy!

With all my love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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Nothing to do
Nowhere to go
Can you play?
Can you rest?

Do you think butterflies have direction?
Or do they just go until they find something interesting to investigate?

How do you feel right now?
Content. Calm, confident, cheerful.

Sitting atop the iron house.
Watching the sun linger atop the clock tower.
Lives happen below,
Pacing the Plaza de Armas.

My chest is open wide
Collecting sunlight
The golden tattoo free between the golden lapels of my robe.

I’ve eaten.
It rained.
I drank.
The sun came out.

Saunas are here all day, every day.
That’s why shade and wind are a currency—
A gift, a piece of value that is attainable, not able to be taken with you, but almost always available.

Tour groups walk under a green flag
Sunglasses, phones at the ready, hip bags.

Isn’t it wonderful that they are here? Yes.
Experiencing? Yes. Quiet, unassuming. Yes. Yes.
Except when they are loud.
But that’s ok.

Peruvian colors are everywhere.
It’s the country’s birthday.
Unlike the tour guide who tells me every time we interact that it’s his birthday—he wants me to buy him beer or give him special consideration.
I just laugh now and tell him I don’t hold it against him.
Who wouldn’t want to have their birthday everyday!
I always leave laughing—I don’t know how he feels about that.
That’s ok.

I was told I looked like Jesus a few times today-
that remark always makes me laugh and shrug.
One person wanted to chat,
one wanted a picture,
and the last one didn’t want anything at all.

The sun ducks under a cloud for a moment.

How do you feel?
Still- above the turmoil, the tuk-tuks.
Staring at the clocktower that used IIII instead of IV to denote 4.
How beautifully unique.
I feel that way sometimes.
Beautifully unique.
Proud of blemishes—able to laugh them off.

Sometimes I’m sad.
And quiet.
I like to sit with myself in those times.
Sometimes I’m angsty, then I go for a walk.
Sometimes I’m worried about money,
so I cook and eat lots of rice.
Or I eat causa for dinner.
In Iquitos that means friend—
pink potatoes and green avocado,
living heart colors. Nourishing friendship.

Anyway, all of these ways and days are my own.
I move from life, death, identity, to non-ness forever.
I flow, like my clothes,
in the priceless soothing and relaxing wind.

Gold ladybugs like to sit on my fingers
when I step outdoors.
Quietly resting.
Sometimes, I make soft wind to send them back to the sky.

I danced in the grass overlooking the Amazon.
No music, no partner, just fluid movement.
Watching the sun and moon on my hands revolve around my body
in playful harmony.

I’ve seen butterflies today. Tiny things.
Fluttering and darting through the wind and up into and out of trees.
I don’t think they have a route, or a destination,
I think they just are—they just move—
and at times, when something interests them, they stop and be for a while.
Maybe that’s me.
But I have routines.
A stationary bed.
A place to return to.
Sometimes I don’t know if that is a blessing or a hindrance.

I have clothes waiting for me at the laundromat.
I don’t know if I’ll ever wear them again.
I think my spirit grew out of them.

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Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoyed!

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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• poems for grace

• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

• Inner Children at Play

• Love’s Traveler

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• Stack Stones

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“Thirst drove me down to the water
where I drank the moon’s reflection.
Now I am a lion staring up totally
lost in love with the thing itself.”

- lines 5-8; Burnt Kabob, Rumi

Good day! I want to spend a moment considering the difference between exalting and honoring ourselves- how can we tell the difference, and what actually becomes our nourishment. I tend to take an unorthodox path when it comes to living, interacting, walking, and even dressing myself. However, I do so as a way to honor myself, not because I must be different but because I’ve looked inside and discovered what I needed.

I hope you enjoy the writing.

With all my love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer.

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“Dance, when you’re broken open.
Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off.
Dance in the middle of fighting.
Dance in your blood.
Dance, when you’re completely free.”

- Dance, Rumi

Considering our human experience, there seems to be a desire to exalt ourselves in cultural society. The idea that hierarchy is the norm. That there is a better and a worse. That there are pedestals to achieve and heights to reach. The reasoning behind hierarchy is for the desire to have a right and wrong, to have a correct or a better way placed against a lesser version. You might see this in religions, rank, professions, even the way we categorize emotions, thoughts, seasons, and the like.

I want to take a moment and just look at things from a non-hierarchy stance, a non-exalting stance. I want to take a moment to consider the question.

“Can you honor yourself without exalting yourself?” and if so, “How does that look?”

Before we get into that, let’s take a look at what it means to exalt oneself and what it means to honor oneself.

Per Merriam Webster, to exalt is to “raise in rank, power, or character.” Also, “to elevate by praise or in estimation.” What this requires is a secondary status or situation in which to improve upon or in which to compare. It also can require a secondary party to praise or approve of what is being done.

This is how most of society seems to be structured. Are you doing something that can be quantified? And if so, how does it compare to someone or something else? Why we do this is based on a desire to have less authority over our lives, by subjugating ourselves to the will and approval of others. This seems contradictory, as the idea of raising in “rank” is to be able to have “more authority” over ourselves. However, the true authority is always based inside. All of these pieces that we add are simply to delay the inevitable of having utter authority over your own life—without comparison, without rank, without approval or lack thereof.

To honor oneself allows you to move in the direction of true understanding of self. True understanding of preferences, and the true desire to be the unique and sui generis you that gets to inhabit this planet and this reality. It has nothing to do with others, and it has everything to do with your own heart and your own truths.

“I can explain this, but it would break
The glass cover on your heart,
And there’s no fixing that.”

- lines 15-17; Enough Words, Rumi

How do people exalt themselves? Think about status for a moment and the way people chase this. I had friends who were always concerned with achieving a mark that would announce to the world that they had arrived. “Once I get a Rolex I’ll be complete.” What is that saying, and why is that an objective of life? All watches tell time, some hold value for their materials, all are beautiful, but what is it about a “Rolex” that gets people in a fuss? What is it about the “Cadillac Margarita” that made people want to drink that beverage over a ‘generic’ margarita? Did they even know the extra ingredient? And how the libation was dreamt up and created?

When I was applying for a job long ago, I sat down with one of the masterminds behind the Cadillac Margarita. Here’s what he said to me:

“We had to make ourselves different from others. All margaritas were the same and there was no “pull” for clients to go from one Mexican restaurant to ours, so we decided to give our drinks “status.”

What does a Cadillac mean to 1960’s American audiences? It means status. It means that you’ve made it. It means that others look up to you.

“We made the Cadillac accessible to everyone. For the price of $20 you could have that “feeling” of “making it.” You could even just say, “I’ll take a Cadillac” and the bartender would know what you wanted.”

And just like other things that exalt for simple status, these novelty drinks briefly intoxicated the consumer, then were depleted without any lasting effect.

“Drumsound rises on the air,
It’s throb, my heart.

A voice inside the beat says,
“I know you’re tired,
but come, this is the way.”

- Rumi

To understand the difference between these two paths, we must look at how we choose to clothe ourselves, both literally and figuratively.

I used to have many beautiful leather shoes, polished to a mirror sheen. They looked great and were completely uncomfortable and impractical. For who were they for? What were they for? I would argue, if they were not comfortable and they were on my feet, then they were not for me. They were for other people to gawk at. My self-esteem was tied (pun intended) in that regard to those shoes. And I had many things that were similar to that in my life—things that were not actually for me, but were for the appearance. Watches, vehicles, clothing, electronics, etc.

There is the opposite of that too. Very comfortable sweaters with stains and holes in them. They might have been comfortable, but I did not feel beautiful in them. How do you find that beautiful balance of comfort, beauty, authenticity, and devotion to yourself through honor?

Obviously, I cannot give you the answer that fits you. I can pose the question. But if I were to say that “a saffron colored robe” is the answer to your troubles I just sold you on an idea. I just took away your authority to make your own decisions. I just “matadored” your heart for another novelty to impress me, not honor you.

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“I honor those who try
To rid themselves of any lying,
Who empty the self
And have only clear being there.”

- Rumi

These things take a little time and self-reflection. Can you sit with yourself and understand what you actually require? Can you take that time away from the constant approval/disapproval of others for those moments of genuine reflection?

When doing so, the next question that can come up is, “how are you with handling fear?” And to whom is this emotion of fear for? Is it actually for you or is it to conform to societal fear?

This often brings up the fear of “disappointing others.” Are you ok disappointing others in order to truly honor yourself? The world may have become accustomed to the way you are now, can you honor yourself and break free of that?

What does it actually look like?

“When the ocean is searching for you, don’t walk
to the language-river. Listen to the ocean,
and bring your talky business
to an end.”

- lines 5-8; Send the Chaperones Away - Rumi

I suppose I have just asked a lot of questions and maybe that’s the point. I’m not here to give answers.

For me, I had to get used to “upsetting” the way that others had grown to receive and perceive me. I had to find out ways to actually sit with the stillness and my own realness. I had to allow for the disappointment to come and go through others as I found ways to honor myself in this life.

I no longer wear uncomfortable shoes. In fact, I no longer wear anything that is uncomfortable in the slightest. I no longer act and speak in order to please or in order to harmonize with the world around me. I had to develop the internal guidance and honor to be able to be complete—allowing the world the opportunity to harmonize around me, my words, my actions, and not the other way around. In this way I honor myself. In this way I show up as who I am, transparently, truthfully, patiently, and lovingly.

This is not to say that I have discarded the entire world and formed a narcissistic viewpoint of myself and how I interact with others. My viewpoint on myself is that of a gentle and excitable best friend—of course I want what is ‘best’ for me, and in that way I look at others and hope that they are developing what is ‘best’ for them. I certainly do not want to tell others what is best for them either, that again has never been the purpose, the purpose is to hopefully inspire someone to look inside and truly discover who they are and what it is they would like in this life—then if needed, inspire unbridled confidence to make it happen.

I am also not exalting myself above others. If someone is happy in the way they are, I am not telling them that they are wrong and I am right. Instead I am simply offering my viewpoint for consideration. There is no panacea. There is just life, living, and creating more beauty around itself for itself.

I honor my heart and my body that transports it through this beautiful existence.

“I have lived on the lip
of insanity, wanting to know reasons,
knocking on a door. It opens.
I’ve been knocking from the inside!”

- Rumi

Moving inward from our physical choices to our emotional landscape, we must ask: What does it mean to honor an emotion?

It means to let it play out and sit with it. It is not to convince yourself that an emotion is wrong. It can mean acknowledgement of a mental, or emotional state and feeling it without judgement or desire to “fix it.” Attention, compassion, patience.

In the same way you honor your body by understanding what is comfortable and not. You don’t try and convince yourself that something is comfortable when it clearly isn’t, you can make changes so that you live in the best state possible.

If you notice for example, “wow, peanuts give my body an allergic reaction” then perhaps you abstain from peanuts when possible because you honor that in yourself. You don’t try to ‘fix your body’ for having allergic reactions, you don’t try to convince everyone around you that peanuts are bad, and you don’t gloat that you have ‘given up peanuts’ to your friends and family for approval. You simply honor yourself and do what is right for you.

• If you notice that you get brain fog when you skip breakfast, perhaps you honor yourself by making sure you eat breakfast.

• If you notice, “wow, when I hang out with these people I notice I act in a way I do not like,” perhaps you will change your behavior or stop spending time with those people.

Honor yourself through attention, observation, understanding, and commitment to yourself to live the best life you can.

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I hope you enjoyed!

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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With all my love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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“Write down all your fears, your flaws, your insecurities, the guilt, the pressures.

Look at them on a list.

Know they’re all distractions.”

- Pharrell Williams

Meditation for me can be found 
in the pages of my journals and books. 
Simply taking the time to write out a line 
allows my mind to shift from river to brooke 
then into meadow. 

Look, I like to write letters and words, 
I like to sit and relax. 
What better way to do both 
then in a journal at last?

Sometimes the lines come fast 
and then shapes become clear. 
Sometimes I hesitate and listen and hear. 
Other times I’m just aware 
of the wind on the skin on my back, 
as I sit shirtless at the table 
and laugh with the rhythms my pen is scratching along~
my instrument in the song.

The symphony, the crescendo, 
the birds outside my window, it seems,
sing about the trees, colorful leaves, 
and the breeze at dawn, dusk, and in between. 
Leaving lovers underneath their covers 
in a bed warm with legs. 
As the outside just might discover 
a golden hour dream.

Awake and walking or fitfully talking 
about times ahead or past~
asking when, where, and why?
The reply: 
now, here, and I see.

These wonderful eyes that bring me closer to connection, 
a bridge directly to heaven~ 
just set the direction and be let in. 
Fully alive and fully authentic 
and free to be. 
Harmonizing with beauty and life~
however you like! 
Wherever you might go.

So, take with your soul confidence to grow
and expand past your plans, 
and past the “can’t”s, 
and past the past too.

New knowledge grew when you were open 
to change and strange languages. 
Language is laughter caught ~
and brought from experience in myriads of moments 
only to be wholly in the mind.

I’m finding that finding my Self 
beyond ideas in this instant catalyst* 
beyond kōans and zen’s infinite canvas, 
beyond diaphanous dervishes dances 
and panacea paradox answers,
beyond Tao duality, conceptual morality,
and astrological reality
allowing me to be 
on

In this instance I insist 
I might meditate right by enlightenment 
to light filament or luminiferous aether~
this lucid luminant ~ Aware ~ sui generis ~ 
either diligently illuminating 
all of me or all I see.

Is there a difference? A sameness?
A chained together nameless Greatness
shapeless in the spacious
auspicious audaciousness? 
Awe ~ Grace ~ is this One 
cosmic consciousness All ~
placed ~ in its place
together with separateness
to gather experience 
to forever experience 
itself?

Yup

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Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoyed!

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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• the Truth is

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“The Guardian of the Rainforest” in Museo Amazónico ~ Iquitos, Peru

Good day, today I want to spend a moment shining a light on a Amazonian conservation program I am delighted to be a part of~ BQC or Bee Queen Coin. I’ve known the founder, Adriano for a few years now and have been honored to participate in my own unique way for the growth and development of the organization including creating writings and using my background as a sommelier to make a tasting menu for their harmonizing product~ medicinal Amazonian honey!

Today, I simply want to share that information with you all and to invite you to a honey tasting and sponsorship program we will be starting in Santa Barbara, California.

I hope you enjoy this writing.

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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A stingless honeybee within it’s hive at BQC Lab.

The Sweet Golden Solution in the Amazon

There has always been a soft spot in my heart for the Amazon Rainforest: the mysteries hidden within its canopy, the life~saving medicines derived from its flora, the tireless conservation efforts, and the vibrant communities of animals and people that call it home.

Parallel to this, I have always been fascinated by the honeybee~ specifically, its ability to create a product that feels magical. It never spoils, it heals, and it tastes spectacular. So, when I discovered Bee Queen Coin (BQC) and their work blending meliponiculture (stingless beekeeping) with rainforest conservation right here in Iquitos, I was immediately hooked, I wanted to know more, and in the end I wanted see if I could offer anything to the organization.

Put simply, BQC’s mission is to protect the Amazon Rainforest through honey.

Local communities protecting wild bees and trees through one of BQC’s programs.

Foundations for True Conservation

True conservation requires understanding the human element. The native inhabitants of the Amazon are its ultimate guardians, but an unstable Peruvian economy has forced many families into a heartbreaking corner. When money for basic food and medicine is scarce, (as has been the case since Covid) the rainforest becomes exploited by its own protectors. Right now, many inhabitants are forced to fell 200~year~old trees just to create charcoal, netting a meager $20 per tree just to put rice on the table.

The rainforest actually holds a far more sustainable treasure: wild, stingless bees that produce rare, highly medicinal honey. Historically, however, harvesting this honey meant cutting down the host tree to get to the hive~ destroying the bee colony, the tree, and any future harvest for a single yield.

BQC changed the game by inventing a reusable, non~destructive hive for these stingless bees. Placed right outside a family’s home, these hives allow for a safe, continuous harvest without harming a single bee or tree. Furthermore, since the bees need the natural environment to be productive, it provides incentive to not chop down trees for charcoal.

By paying local communities premium prices for this honey, BQC replaces the destructive $20 charcoal cycle with a sustainable economy. The grand dream is to develop one million hives across the Amazon, transforming extraction into regeneration, and funding education initiatives so the next generation learns to harmonize with nature rather than exploit it.

Adriano happily enjoying some bee companionship at BQC lab outisde of Iquitos, Peru. Note the sustainable beehive in the background.

The Visionary Behind the Hives

BQC was developed by Julio Adriano Meza Braga~ or just Adriano, as he likes to be called~ a native Iquitaño, veteran entrepreneur, and inquisitive academic. Driven by a deep-seated reverence for the rainforest cultivated by his grandparents, Adriano has spent the last six years pioneering this revolutionary paradigm in sustainable Meliponiculture(stingless beekeeping).

Adriano holds business and marketing degrees from three prestigious institutions: Ramon Llull ~ La Salle, USIL University, and a Master’s from ESAN University. When the pandemic hit, he bypassed traditional corporate avenues to return to his roots in Iquitos. His goal was urgent: design a permanent, community~rooted foundation to replace the short~term, flashy charities that so often fail the Amazon.

Under his leadership, what began as just two prototype hives has exploded into a collective movement of over 1,600 hives, empowering 500+ families across 60 distinct native communities, and protecting 29 native bee species. Backed by scientific validation from institutions like the University of Michigan~ which found BQC’s honey rivals global standards like Manuka~ Adriano’s ultimate mission is to secure financial independence for 300,000 native inhabitants~ the guardians of the Amazon.

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The BQC Mission & Philosophy

Mission Statement: “To transform the Amazonian economy from exploitation to harmony by empowering native communities through sustainable Meliponiculture, securing long-term family livelihoods, and preserving the heartbeat of the rainforest for generations to come.”

The HONEY Framework

At BQC, we believe true philanthropy is a permanent foundation rooted in community growth. Through our H.O.N.E.Y.philosophy, we transition from an economy of extraction to an ecosystem of harmonious mutual thriving:

• H ~ Health: Optimizing the well-being of families and bees alike through the medicinal bounty of the rainforest.

• O ~ Opportunities: Providing viable, close-to-home economic alternatives to deforestation and urban migration.

• N ~ Nature: Defending the biodiversity of the Loreto region by valuing standing forests over fallen timber.

• E ~ Education: Creating a generational cycle of knowledge, passing down advanced, sustainable Meliponiculture techniques.

• Y ~ Youth: Anchoring the next generation to their ancestral lands with pride, purpose, and financial security.

Stingless honeybees in the BQC Lab.

Bringing the Amazon to the States: Honey Tasting Menu

Living in Iquitos and knowing Adriano for a few years, I felt compelled to use my own unique background to help move this harmonious product out of the rainforest and into the hands of conscious consumers.

In the coming months, I am bringing these honeys to the United States, starting with a series of tasting events in Santa Barbara, California to raise awareness and find sponsors to join the BQC family.

Leveraging my sommelier background, I have treated these wild honeys with the same reverence as fine wines~ and just like wine variations, these honeys taste extraordanarially different than each other and probably not what you might expect~ some are not even sticky!

As such, here is a look at the tasting menu I’ve designed for BQC’s unique offerings to help people understand:

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Showcasing some of the BQC honey. Note the stingless bee on the right honeyjar.

Honey Tasting Menu

A few of BQC honeys. Note the colors!

Bee Part of the Hive

This isn’t just about selling a beautiful product; it’s about pioneering a self~sustaining economic model that protects the lungs of our planet and honors its oldest guardians.

In the coming months, I will be hosting exclusive tasting events in Santa Barbara, California, showcasing similar honey flights. Attendees will have the rare opportunity to taste the untamed biodiversity of the Amazon, learn more about Adriano’s vision, and find out how they can get involved.

Space for these initial tastings will be highly limited. Whether you are a conscious consumer, a potential sponsor, an environmental advocate, or a fellow enthusiast of nature’s wonders, I invite you to join our growing family.

Stingless Beehive at BQC Lab.

How You Can Support BQC Today:

• 📩 Stay in the Loop: Subscribe to this Substack to get first-access invitations to our upcoming Santa Barbara tasting events and exclusive updates on our supply chain milestones.

• 🤝 Become a Sponsor or Partner: If you represent an organization, investor group, or brand that aligns with our mission of radical sustainability and indigenous empowerment, please reach out directly via the comments or reply to this email.

• 📣 Share the Mission: The easiest way to help us build a bridge from Iquitos to the world is by spreading the word. If you know someone who loves rare culinary experiences or cares deeply about the Amazon, share this piece with them!

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Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoyed!

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

Find my other books on Amazon!

• poems for grace

• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

• Inner Children at Play

• Love’s Traveler

• beingSelf

• Stack Stones

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“Be calm, confident, and free”

- A signoff I would write in my journal entries every day for ~5 years.

Good day! I was going through my journal today, deciding what to write about, what messages I wanted to send to myself, how I wanted to see the world and my own involvement in it. As I flipped through the journal to begin, I came across these pages~ I read them, laughed, and decided to share them with you as well. Maybe it can give you hope, inspiration, encouragement, or just a fun read. I hope you enjoy!

With all my love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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Transcription from my Journal

Page 1 of 2

If you stop doing what you want, you can start doing what you like!

Observe the myriad of thoughts moving through your awareness~ realize you cannot possibly follow all of them. Therefore, choose to follow the ones that you enjoy and like! Those thoughts are the seeds for actions. Those actions create your reality.

Remove yourself from running from pain and instead act with patience towards preferences. Peace, Relaxation, Awe, Enjoyment, and Bliss. Find those thoughts, notice them and allow them to guide you.

There is no master or guide for your dream life ~ except for you! Allow all of the universe to harmonize with you. Let the physical manifestations of life assist you. Know that the river always flows towards the ocean and everything in life helps that to occur.

Have confidence in yourself and all that is manifesting. Know that any situation that occurs is something that you can handle. There is no reason to burden your existence with false ideas of inadequacy~ unless that is the game you desire to play! Enjoy the game of confidence!

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Page 2 of 2

Know in your Heart and very being that you are complete. Whole. That there is nothing ‘wrong’ with you, that you are not ‘missing’ something. Know that YOU BELONG HERE ~ in your most beautiful form ~ and are appreciated thus.

Share your beauty, fragrance, colors, softness, and compassion with all that you see~ you are already, unbeknownst to you~ so now do it consciously as well! The world loves you! This is your home! Allow yourself to shine bright and find the light and environments that help you to do so in the most beautiful way possible!

Through your flowers and fruits you plant seeds in this universe. Enjoy the process and do not concern yourself with where they fall!

Both flowers and fruits attract eyes naturally! Bees go to flowers, the flowers do not go to bees. The harvest comes to fruits! Neither the flowers nor fruits have to make any noise. They simply open and become ripe in their own time~ and in that ripeness the world rejoices!

Go whereever you are drawn, and dance on your way!

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These are a couple of words that were gifted to me by friends during my travels. Sometimes, I like to ask people, who speak different languages than me, to gift me one word from their native tongue that fits me. These are two of them.

• Neh-Sham-Ah: The Hebrew word neshama (נשמה) literally translates to breath, but it most commonly refers to a person’s soul or spirit. In Jewish tradition and mysticism, it represents the divine spark placed within humanity and is considered the intellectual, God-given dimension of the human mind

• Lagom: (pronounced “lah-gom”) is a Swedish concept that roughly translates to “just the right amount” or “not too much, not too little.“ It embodies the principles of moderation, balance, and contentment, applying to everyday aspects of life like work-life balance, diet, and personal possessions

Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoyed!

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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• poems for grace

• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

• Inner Children at Play

• Love’s Traveler

• beingSelf

• Stack Stones

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“In the cup of death, I was
a breath of life, I remained
It would be a pity if I could not find this breath
again, I would be filled with sadness and absent peace.”

- Abdur Rahman Jami

Good day! Today I want to share some poetry that I have written while in the Amazon. Some of these pieces are untitled, and some are raw and unpolished. I like being able to share those with you as well as the refined versions. I hope you enjoy, and maybe they can inspire you to share more of your art with the world.

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

Paintings found in this piece are by my friend and local Amazonian painter, Brus Rubio. You may find his work here.

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There’s a strange frenzy in my head,
of birds flying,
each particle circulating on its own.
Is the one I love everywhere?

- Rumi

alone on the roof of myself
the wind playing with my hair
the moon as my luminant crown
rain falls near
the horizon stretched thin
Life continues below
spinning swirling succinct
screaming success
celebrations and celibate elations
 
I walk
bare ~ foot after bare foot
toes probing
soles solitary
earth foundations 
erase ease into ecstasy
elephants into exhales
songs into silence
sauntering into sussuruses
and still

I await
completion into completion
perfection into perfection
laughter into laughter

     quell thy thirst for more
     you’ve arrived

write your story
know there is 
no hurry
guided meanderer
gold gilded gold
     go 
into the world
break hearts open

with love and gratitude

Gone, inner and outer
No moon, no ground or sky.

Don’t hang me another glass of wine.
Pour it in my mouth.
I’ve lost the way to my mouth.

- Rumi

seeing into the void
as the void

semen of Life
not of achievement but becoming 
the is~ness of now and experiencing 
Gaia’s Love

the winged serpentine movement 
light radiant eyes of sun and moon
swallow thine self whole to become
     thunderous 

ocean waves pulsing in eternal dances
glistening water
like jeweled scales 
of our feathered ouroboros
aurora borealis emitting from 
ocean movement 
as sunsets color clouds 
endlessly instilling Life 
into rain

pinholes the size of galaxies
quietude in rancor
be shown a single feather 
larger than the horizon

     it is yours

eyes so small
yet the enormity they witness is 
indescribable

     you are that

light~mirror beings reflecting back 
true radiance as the natural Self 
resting quietly
observing ~ experiencing
Loving ~ accepting 
peaceful ~ calm 
harmonious

without boundaries 
pure luminescence
dissolving again 
into the now~eternity~Self

Untitled

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the wine we really drink is our own blood
our bodies ferment in these barrels
we give everything for a glass of this
we give our minds for a sip

- Rumi

cicadas and thick air
warm with jungle shadow and sunlight
bare feet caked with tree batter
dragonflies and mosquitos roam

echoes pulse and heart slows
eyes heavy in her deep song
the breeze lifts Life into moving
wrapping me surely as water falls

this hammock sways~ the bird calls ignite
amazonian clouds look like home
here I can be ~ no mask ~ no face
no people and not alone

Untitled

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Drumsound rises on the air,
It’s throb, my heart.

A voice inside the beat says,
“I know you’re tired,
but come, this is the way.”

- Rumi

it is early
     or maybe late
I haven’t slept
     or have I?

the moon is silver
and the jungle follows
     glowing
the chorus has changed
     bird calls
          circadas
               crickets
thick in the humid air
quietness isn’t quiet
     it’s alive
          pulsing

everything moves
you can hear the trees pop
as they stretch and explore
the vibrations of wings
twisting the air
echos or responses
buzzing ~ humming ~ spirals
a kaleidoscope for the ears

I was a white cocoon
covered and consecrated
cresting colors into rainbow
light brilliance
steeped in sound
songbird sweet sirens
nestled deep
     but changing
          transforming
               transfiguring

the old husk left behind
colorful colibrí
find singing laughter
breaking thunder 

Untitled

“You have all seeds in your barn. You even have my love and my soul, so I can’t even bring those.

I’ve brought you a mirror. Look at yourself and remember me.”

- Rumi

I'm here now
a jungle hollow
hammock laying
mosquetero covering
sunset starting

I had rice
with salt
and drew water
from the spring
I boiled chamomile tea
while the dog whooped

songbirds play 
in the background
insect pulses
sudden deluge vibrated everything
     when there is rain
          there is nothing else
     so strong ~ powerful ~ roaring awe
          there is nothing else
thunder reverberated wet earth
lightning crackled across sky
clouds popped and aether shattered
petrichor ~ clay ~ ant bites
between my toes
I chose to stay

echoes in melodies
sounds of chewing bark
or dripping water onto leaves
peach ~ lilac ~ slight silk blue
play in the luminiferous sky

my clothes hang to dry
bowls of captured rain washed my face
crown ~ brow ~ back
I stood naked in the center

     listening

drifting away from the shore
the sure
the bridge with gaps I stepped over
the stream with quiet gold I passed
on my way through
la quebrada del amor

how comfortably strange it is
to be surrounded by true mother
a live shifting energy
sounds and vibrations
silhouettes and shadows
glowing humidity and anthropomorphic symphonies
millions more than millions
of Life beside me
above starlight provides me
a night outside me
delight fully astride ~ alive ~and divinely
guiding me and mine crystalline heart

reverberating movement in solitude

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Are you jealous of this ocean’s generosity?
Why would you refuse this joy to anyone?

Fish don’t hold the sacred liquid in cups!
They swim the huge fluid freedom.

- Rumi

there are times
when I sit on old dilapidated boats
where the water seeps
through the edges
of splintered wood
rotting and weary
buoys and swaying

the sound of lapping wakes
lull me to silence

sometimes there’s nothing to do
but wait
as the ripples of others move
your vessel
moored yet afloat
bouncing yet stagnant
leaking yet buoyant  
soft silkily sauntering

toss heed overboard
head into the dark depths
over or under
waded down and through

you smoked your last
in the long ago
now watching those rolling suns
in the later of night
by faces unfamiliar ravined and kind
the honey here has a black sweet vinegar taste
and it can make you wild 

they say pink dolphins share the water
bringers of medicine
good omens
still the small boats use propellers
instead of oars
faster ~ louder
one hand holds the course
the other holds a phone screen
where is the magic
and knowledge of craft
the melding of man and river
two hands and attention

they say that children’s hands 
are best for wallets
if you’re small and have a belly
you can slip in and out

a priest fell into the water here
so they named the town after him
Padre Cocha ~ 'Priest Water'
a joke? homage? reminder?
who baptizes who in the Amazon?
whose god do you now serve?

*****

I lay now
hammock suspended
seven flames surrounding
copal and palo santo
burn in a black liquid flame
behind me

I bathed in Florida’s water
pinched by centipedes

I would recommend
not being bitten by a bullet ant
on accident or on purpose
     I met a kid once
     who sought one out
     to film himself being bitten
          two days later
          he claimed his arm was still numb

I would recommend
boiling your water
before drinking
you’re too soft by far

boat petroleum stench 
does something to the river’s
beauty ~ fish ~ color
sediment stirs
rust gathers
trees only grow 
so tall

Untitled

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In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.

You dance inside my chest,
Where no one sees you,

But sometimes I do,
And that sight becomes this art.

- Rumi

I was there 
in the water of myself
drinking the full moon with my body 
     with my eyes

she began to reflect through my irises
my now moon eyes 
and the world was soft and pale 
and gold 

I was neither man nor woman 
     but both 

I then went into the cave
moon eyes lighting the cavern
I found a red~anger~avatar 
who was cuddle~crouched 
on the ground 
     and I waited

I waited 
loving-acceptance in my eyes 
soft~receptive
easy~unblinking

I sent love to that being
     I said
"I love you 
I accept you
There is nothing to fix
Thank you for coming to me 
when I was lonely
I've appreciated you
however I no longer require 
your companionship
I am (w)hole."

then it looked at me  
after a moment I breathed out 
soft breeze and it 
disappeared

in its place was a baby
covered in water
water surrounding it

I picked him~her up 
and held my youngest 
infant self 
against my breast

I hummed and comforted 
my inner child

Untitled

I am filled with you.
Skin, blood, bone, brain, and soul.
There’s no room for lack of trust, or trust.
Nothing in this existence but that existence.

- Rumi

the full moon and the sun at noon are you
light fills both of your eyes
radiance and effulgence
sing through the void

the doorway has become the bridge
all walls have sundered
and the floor is replaced with stars

galaxies and constillations
stories and songs

even the roof is no more 
than a ribbon of time
softly being kissed 
by the ocean's breath

the fragrance of your being
a gold powdered dust
leaves wakes where you've walked

vortexes of utter beauty and astonishment
spin in dervishes
and crack like lightning

thunderous awe
the universal laugher
breaks from your chest
vibrating all into being

dream your Life
taste joy on your tongue
fall back from separateness
into One

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Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other”
doesn’t make any sense.

- Rumi

Prophecy and Journal Entry

This is the realm of the shaman. You have exausted every alternative, spent yourself completely, taxed body and mind beyond your former limits. Survival and salvation lie beyond your reach now. Only transcendence to a new existence -- a higher plane of being -- will see you through. The old you is just a dry husk. You can’t return to it. Metamorphasis is the only grace offered. You can only return to your homeland as a new you.

*** *** *** *** *** ***
Going to the jungle:

What am I hoping to find? Solitude. For a large transformation. I need to leave everything behind. Transcendence is the only way forward. Transcend limitiations. Transcend smallness. Transcend stiffled actions. Transcend fear. Transcend. Transcend. Transcend.

Life moves. You grow. And grow. And grow. Let go. Of the tree. Be the ripe fruit.

The Capricorn moon is here and is asking for everything. No half-measures in love or in greatness. No half measures in nourishment. Be.

Am I scared? Yes. Of what? Of what I could become. What is scary about that. Being big- large- more. Why? It is new. Should you be scared about new? No. It simply is. That’s ok. Be. Be big- large- more. Let yourself have that. The universe and yourself have been growing you for these moments. For your purpse. For your true life. Are you ready? Yes. Ready to really live? Yes. Ready to have a life that was only once dreamed of? Yes. Take me. Take me. This emblem of grateness is me again. And again I am. I am. I am.
Take me!

** just as I looked up at the tv the man’s chains were cut**

Take me! Take me! There is no turning back. The old you is a husk. Take me take me! You must move forward that is the only way through. Take me take me! You have grown yourself. Be the ripe fruit to nourish the world! Be you. Be. Be. Be.

Through you an entire world is freed. Open. Don’t hold anything back.

If you would like, you may gift me a coffee here.

Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoyed!

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

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Find my other books on Amazon!

• poems for grace

• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

• Inner Children at Play

• Love’s Traveler

• beingSelf

• Stack Stones

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“tune into your inner silence
be aware that all energy is joy
the world is your reflection
direct the flow of your creativity”

- Journal Excerpt

Good day! Today I want to share journal excerpts and poetry!

The purpose of this is simply to share. There may be themes you may find throughout, however I am just opening the cover of my journal for you to read. It may be incoherent as thoughts jump around, but that’s alright as it was written for me. It’s just raw and unrefined in the way the mind can be sometimes. Many of the poems are untitled, as they simply were written and have yet to be polished and tightened- maybe they will help inspire you.

The layout is Journal Entries first, then Poetry for the second half of this article. Jump around as you like.

I hope you enjoy.

With love and gratitude,

Awe

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“Over the river, the shining moon; in the pine trees, sighing wind; all night long so tranquil-why? And for whom?” -Hüsanchüeh

Journal Entries:

“Alone experiencing the peaceful contentedness of the world, as the world” - Journal Excerpt.

Journal Entry after a writing prompt

When I think about love, I think
about the relationship, the harmony and recognition.
I think about simple things - the moon, water.
about spontaneous things - jazz, smiles.
I think about the way things fit together - my arms your body.

Love, love sings. she hums, the low hum in my ear - the low hum that feels like home.

When I think about love, I think about excitement. Like a child running with a fragile precious vase.
I think about movement - dancing. I think about the feeling without considering my feet.

I think… no. In the end I don’t think and that might be the point.

Rumi says, “it’s the old rule that drunks have to argue and get into fights. The lover is just as bad. He falls into a well. But down that well he finds something shining worth more than any amount of gold.

Last night the moon came down, dropping its clothes in the street. I took it as a sign to start dancing.” - and I feel that.

“Let the lover be crazy, disgraceful, absentminded. Someone sober will worry about things going badly. Let the lover be.”

And I am. I am.

Let me be. I don’t have the words to explain the matters of the heart to you. Even if I did, you would not understand
and I would not be dancing.

Journal Entry

Love and shine forth your radiance, holding nothing back, like the full moon in the sky. There is no shell encasing it, it gives itself freely for no reason except to be and to do.

Release any control you think you need for life to turn out how you think you want it to. Plans for you are much bigger than you can imagine. You’re in the current going towards the true destination. Follow the energy. Let it lead you to greatness.

Relax and enjoy in ease- who has the energy you cannot touch? There is no wound- nothing to fix. Move as a total being. Resonate total acceptance. Embody complete consciousness- and complete consciousness does not try to control, it simply is. There is no need to try and put ripe fruit back on the tree. Allow it to be shared and consumed. Let it nourish.

Your potential is infinite. Follow your heart. Let it lead you. Go dancing into the great unknown with love!

Journal Entry:

What is my fear? Why do I move around so much?

I know life is infinite. However I have not linked that with time being infinite. Therefore I am doing so much to try and “get enough” out of infinity. But the space within is infinite. So that creates a loop. Am I afraid of people? No.

Am I afraid of not having “enough”? sort of.

Right now it is in the “enough experiences.” It is in the “enough creation” it is in the “enough security” - security can mean money.

Money is seen as seeds for experiences. You develop them to obtain experiences in rapid fashion instead of spending part of time to create them yourself. It is not a bad thing to have seeds. They can take you to places where you can truly experience.

What am I excited about? Knowing people intimitely. Understanding them. Being loved in this universe and feeling at home. I am excited about synchronicities, universal winks, things working out better than I ever imagined.

Why do I speak? So that I can make sure that I am here.

How would the world act if everyone knew what I knew? How would they interact with me, how would I interact with them? Laughing. Winking. Seeing what they are pursuing out of love and why. Dancing. Singing.

How would we greet each other? Oh, you’re here too, or you’re still here! Great! What are you pursuing? What is your heart harmonizing with?

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You are the ripe fruit ~ let go of the tree
You are the tree ~ let go of the ripe fruit
Nourish the world

- Journal Excerpt

Journal Entry:

Sacrifice your wants and be led by instinct and magic- this is the path to glory and all of creation is behind you. Know clarity, inspiration and transformation.

What happens if you remove all ideas of debt attached to you? Debt to country, national debt, debt to political party, debt to friends/family, debt to schools, to loans, to institutions that business is debt. What happens when you remove that debt you have to yourself, the needing to finish something because you started it, the being philosophically in debt, in debt to prove yourself to the ‘Master’? What happens when you remove the idea that there is anything that controls or influences you in that ‘third party’ way?— Even yourself! What happens when you become truly free?

Free from social norms. Free from society. Free from the need to behave a certain way. free from your self-imposed self-restricting notions.

Then there is absolutely nothing to do and no one to do it for. You have released your heart from all chains and all blinders.

Right and wrong come from you.

Who’s eyes do you think are watching you? Answer, your own.

If you stop doing what you want -or what you think others expect from you- you can start doing what you like.

Why are you doing so quickly and rushing to be done? Enjoy what you are doing, always. Follow fascination until it itself finished.

To whom do you owe your imaginary burden?

Any information or clarity obtained is first for you to enjoy and integrate. Don’t be rushing to obtain in order to teach.

Patience and presence along with listening to intuitive messages allows one to transfer from cyclical thought patterns into authentic living- exploring the material world as though it were the internal landscape. Understanding themes, interacting with notions of beauty, developing oneself into true maturity of the human experience and savoring Life’s most precious gift- you, here, in this moment.

Stop trying to fill your time with nonsense. just relax and enjoy your beautiful life as it unfolds in front of you.

Let humanity and those who value roles over connection enjoy their game. It is of no value to you.

Journal Entry:

An authentic doing from God’s Lion is not concerned with personal gain.

It is done out of loving~forgiving~kindness. It has no intention except to expand in beauty and Love. Inspiring and encouraging others through sharing courageous innocence. Integrating each isolated success into the whole of consciousness. A movement of identity from one into the identity of All- from singular into Collective.

Turning the key within the lock to release true beauty into the reality of true beauty. Intuition guiding the master between temples. Adventuring with childlike wonder and awe as his rainbow~heart~light illuminates his way through the unknowable~undescribable~indelliable Love~Self that he traverses and consumes~creates in joy.

Not rebelling within this love but fully integrated as the mirror. All colors are his, and in this way, all successes are his. The one who finally identifies as all.

Journal Entry after meditation

“I was there. In the water of myself. Drinking the full moon with my body. With my eyes. She began to reflect through my irises (my now moon eyes) and the world was soft and pale and gold. I was neither man nor woman, but both.

I then went into the cave- using my moon eyes to light the way. I found a red-anger-avatar who was cuddle/crouched on the ground and I waited. I waited, loving-acceptance in my eyes. Soft-receptive-easy-unblinking.

I sent love to that being. I said, “I love you. I accept you. There is nothing to fix. Thank you for coming to me when I was lonely, I’ve appreciated you, however I no longer require your companionship. I am (w)hole.”

Then it looked at me - after a monent I breathed out soft breeze and it dissappeared.

In it’s place was a baby. Covered in water. Water surrounding it.

I picked him/her up and held my youngest infant self against my breast. I hummed to him - and comforted my inner child.

Journal Entry

The Eternal Fragrance
blossom, expand fully open, petals have come to a completion.
You may not be able to experience your own aroma- however you can see how others react to you to understand that aroma.
Go with the flow- your aroma will open the hearts of others near you
You are always where you need to be.
Now watch,
the first flower of spring announces to the world that it is time to bloom.
That is you.

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Do not compromise yourself
You’ve released all suppression and tension
You’ve released all sorrow into joy
You have true vision
Participate in the way you would like!

- Journal Excerpt

Poetry

“Surround yourself with poets and you will be full of poetry. - I keep company with poets, old souls, and mystics.” - Journal Except

sitting under the pommegranate tree
fragrance of jazmine tell of progress
ripening lemons aside periwinkle stars
vines drape down to the grass
where my toes play in the moist earth

dancing leaves float
and swirl beside me
branches peer over my shoulder

between you and i
there is nothing
no divide ~ no skin
nothing but those fragrances
colors, sights, the flavor of sunrise pre~dawn

what's left of me
left long ago
though the diamond~sun

i asked her
the divine chewer of mouthfuls
the first rhythm felt through feet
what comes of our union?

	"Laughter!
	Compassion!
	Joy effervescent!"

break your fast on me, universe
grind the grains of my existence
between your teeth
let the seeds of who i am,
was, will be
be consumed through you

as the sands of time cease
pour me into your heart
let me warm you
and grow true beauty

enlivening and seeing with fire
through your eyes

Untitled

walk between the sun and moon
pass through the spider’s single thread 
that kept you from yourself 

place your feet in the lotus pond
sit under the tree of silence
blood~red leaves dancing in the water’s reflection
watch the ripples cascade forth

then still

pollywogs resting in the shadows
contentedly awaiting a voice and legs

peel back the layers of self 
from the sole of earthly abundance
offer yourself to yourself
upon the gravestone of who you once were

light dances and reflects back
completely full and empty

Untitled

turning inward i seek
my own source
the estatic rapture within
flowing through me~ everything that happens
filled with its pleasure and warmth
this true delight of eternal~happenings

in Love’s sanctuary
look at Love
with Love
you are One
in whom God is at play!

listen with your chest
be the sound and feel
the silence
the melody between what happens
true enthusiasm!
one breath of which
whirls the universe into being

Untitled

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“Healed innocence allows you to experience the adventure of life with authentic spontaneous intensity!” - Journal Excerpt

seeing into the void
as the void

semen of life 
not of achievement but becoming 
the is~ness of now and experiencing 
Gaia’s Love

the winged serpentine movement
light radiance ~ eyes of sun and moon
swallow thine self whole to become
thunderous
ocean waves pulsing in eternal dances 
glistening water 
jeweled scales of a feathered serpent 
ouroboros

auora borealis emitting 
from ocean movement 
as sunsets color clouds 
endlessly as instilling life into rain 

pinholes the size of galaxies
quietude in rancor 
be shown a single feather 
larger than the horizon

     it is yours

eyes so small 
yet the enormity they witness 
is indescribable

     you are that

light~mirror beings 
reflecting back true radiance 
as the natural Self 
resting quietly

observing ~ experiencing
Loving ~ accepting
peaceful ~ calm
harmonious

without boundaries 
pure luminescence
dissolving again 
into the now~eternity~Self

Untitled

the spirit~elephant comes to you 
shining like the full autumn moon 
singing through trees 
the breeze wraps herself through your hair 

wings sprout on caterpillars 
bullfrogs rumble still ponds into ripples 
the silhouette of you glows 
the absence of color 

brings forth surrounding light 
twisting toes in the earth plant themselves 
connecting you with the long ancient dead, sacred 
trees of starlight glisten through your eyes 

crickets chirp then quell entirely 
as your body becomes flame 
neither man nor woman, but both 
complete 
harmony

Untitled 

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“In the cup of death, I was
a breath of life, I remained
It would be a pity if I could not find this breath
again, I would be filled with sadness and absent peace.”

- Abdur Rahman Jami

ease of breath 
ease of movement 
ease and flow, windfalls slow 
rustle near and clear your mind 
heart speaks now 
"shine"

Untitled

it is time to meet the moon. i am glad. 
find me my darkest self 
and illuminate my irises through you 
scorpio stings epiphany beginnings 
sing songs through the void
sins gone asteroids
and constellations new 
eyes damp in darkness
i’m chanting heart messages 
chest fills with empty air, time, and silence
chest feels width, any cares, hiding violence
claw through earth and mud 
reverse the poison in my blood
rile this passion into action 
cut the cords holding me from myself
warm the core “coldings” speak some signs of 
harmonizing 

take the mask off the face of the mountain 
let me look deep into your moon lit gorges
i bathe in your hot heart water  
i name you dreamer of daughters 
clouds birth from your skin
the path is lonesome dark and twistin'
roots retracing their steps 
grand mother of mountain springs 
mountain misting shrouding starlight
silhouette strings along depth and death 
transparent kindles transformation 

crest my mind’s machinations
let this lake hold both me and the moon
we bathe together in the stillness
my heartbeat making her dance 
my breath making her sway
my hands lift her through the air

tunnel deep in your cave 
the wind’s laughter whips my hair
moonbeam. ribbons dance
my skin ripples 
eyes wide unblinking 
sand salt and shale 
under my hand and fingernails

the ouroboros and aurora borealis
change me like leaves
from green gold, red and back to breeze
so be

there is so much beauty and comfort in being

so be 
a beautiful you
open to millions of things
remove yourself from the dream 
of separateness, of achieving/failing.
you are success
a beautiful being
a star of light~ brilliant and beloved
you are a hotspring, simply being
allowing those tired souls to find rest 
and comfort in your waters
asking not for recognition but simply transmuting 
earth water fire air
into fodder 
for clouds
dreams. being

Untitled

the full moon and the sun at noon are you
light fills both of your eyes
radiance and effulgence
sing through the void

the doorway has become the bridge
all walls have sundered
and the floor is replaced with stars

galexies and constillations
stories and songs

even the roof is no more 
than a ribbon of time
softly being kissed 
by the ocean's breath

the fragrance of your being
a gold powdered dust
leaves wakes where you've walked

vortexes of utter beauty and astonishment
spin in dervishes
and crack like lightning

thunderous awe
the universal laugher
breaks from your chest
vibrating all into being

dream your life
taste joy on your tongue
fall back from seperateness
into One

Untitled

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“Integrate the world through personal celebrations of the material realm’s completion and inspire to develop more of beauty through pure loving harmony with the spiritual realm.” - Journal Excerpt.

with musicians, i use fingers
with dancers, i use feet
with poets, i use poetry
with the deaf, i use gestures
and a soft sweet smile

with readers, i use letters
with those in sight, i use clothing
with those close enough, i use speech
with those that are closer, i use fragrance
but with you, i whisper
I hold you close
I hum

But, when i commune with the moon
i simply bathe in still water
under a sky of constillations and memories
i invite her, the full moon
to come sit with me
to illuminate my soft skin
and to shine in my eyes

Untitled

i leave the golden forest
and i take the chiming wind with me
mystics, mysteries, laughter, and memories
move the energy, let the waters fall
down the hill
earth rumbles still
along its own path
without worry nor care
carrying our hearts
compassion overflows

***

i don’t know for who nor why
i find beauty, compassion, 
love, and laughter
in your eyes
bright without worry
a light without hurry
shining wisdom from the chest
break apart the bindings
climb in and find me
i see colors of rainbows strewn
across clouds and ridges 
bright poppies clear sight

Untitled

the felt mask slips ~ flashing the mirror
Heart~sounds talk together underneath
the whole thing is pulled away

telling of what i see
ineffable union possibilities
documenting infinity inadequately
to who ~ why?
there is no need to announce
the future

     what future?
     this now is it!
     this!
     here!

Every~Thing is satisfied
by this moment’s energy
making up complete togetherness

     listen

conducting this symphony like copper
veins of flowing illumination
laughing like lightning
don’t try to direct those flashes

     listen

that flowing moves through you
whether you say anything or not
expanding~contracting identity
inhaling~exhaling spirit intelligence

secluded meadower
unable to tell the ground from sky
what is form in the presence of Reality?
Reality keeps the sky revolving
a turning wheel ~ an ocean of all beings
unending Creation

release this heavy human storying
secretly break open
dissolve back into presence
become Consciousness

enjoy the banquet of wisdom
no matter in no~thing
light leaving the body
walking back into the sun

The Great Joy breaks free of the Self

a drumming begins
we play along on our chests

leave us alone ~ we live here
where souls do what they do
laughing in morning windsounds
bathing in fire from within

words and talky~business are melodies
a boredom of explaining
tell the word~men to stop their circling
a dance of now is happening

put down the book you were studying
and touch eyes with me

enjoy this being washed
a candle wick without wax
fully aflame ~ dancing
wreathed in bright sunlight

     listen

meadowsounds and heartdrums 
happy to be out in the air again

Untitled

Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoyed!

With love,

Awe World Experiencer

Share

Find my other books on Amazon!

• poems for grace

• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

• Inner Children at Play

• Love’s Traveler

• beingSelf

• Stack Stones

To Donate:

Venmo: AweWorldExperiencer

BuyMeACoffee: buymeacoffee.com/aweworldexperiencer

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Two llanchama journals I made by hand along with handmade quill pens. June 2026.

Llanchama ~ Canvas of the Forest

“Among the most distinctive Materials of Amazonian Indigenous Arts Llanchama, the inner bark of the Uvilla tree (Pourouma cecropiifolia). Once harvested, beaten, and softened, it becomes a fibrous cloth, water-resistant and supple, often likened to felt or handmade paper. Today, it serves as a living canvas for painting, carrying the texture of the forest into each work of art.” ~ Anturion Gallery

A New Love

In my time in the Amazon Rainforest, one material has caught my eye, my attention, and my creativity more than any other~ the sacred natural bark fiber llanchama. As soon as I touched it, I knew it was special, something I felt called to work with and share.

I’ve hunted for it throughout the hot streets of Iquitos, and when that failed, I went straight to the source to find it. I’ve written on it, ironed it (yes, sometimes to get wrinkles out of a tree, you simply iron it), I’ve made scrolls with it, and now, I’m making my newest and most exciting product: handmade journals.

These journals have beautiful, thin pages of llanchama that I’ve sized at A4, bound inside covers made of a thicker, sturdier yield of the bark. I iron every single sheet, cut every page, hand~stitch every cover, and tend to the whole thing with the utmost respect and reverence for the process. To me, smoothing out the rough and supple bark-fiber mirrors the act of journaling itself~ taking the wrinkled, chaotic thoughts of our days and gently flattening them into a space of peace.

I am delighted to be working with this material, and I wanted to pause, sit down, and explain the material, the process, the culture, and my journey to find it. Here’s that story for you.

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The process of making llanchama journals.

The Great Cultural Journey

Llanchama is a strange, beautiful hybrid– a fabric/paper/bark material made from the inner bark of the Poulsenia armataand/or Pourouma cecropiifolia tree. Traditionally, the indigenous Bora people use it for ceremonial clothing, painting it with natural Amazonian colors to display symbols of protection and strength. The idea is that when you have the skin of the sacred tree in communion with your skin, you are connecting more fully into the depths, mysteries, and power of the Amazon rainforest~ no longer separate, but integrated fully with this raw primordial energy.

The process of finding the sacred tree, cutting it down, removing the fiber, pounding it flat, washing, and then stretching the material into sheets is a grueling, multi~day ordeal. Simply pounding the llanchama into a uniform flat sheet takes about ten hours of constant, exhausting attention. It is labor~intensive, requires an archaic dying, highly specific skillset, and demands that you harvest a sacred tree you first have to actually track down in the dense jungle.

As someone who writes constantly, I am always looking for ways to elevate the experience. From journaling to jotting~ poetry to story writing~ I am always placing pen on page to enjoy the tactile dance of it. When I started using fountain pens instead of ballpoints, paper became the next thing to upgrade (a good fountain pen will simply bleed right through generic, thin paper). I’ve used parchment and vellum; I’ve used high~end brands like Tomoe River and Midori.

But now that I am here in the heart of the Amazon, llanchama paper has simply drawn me in. It forced a beautiful trade: swapping my premade inks for the ability to press my own from Amazonian fruits, trading fountain pens for brushes, and exchanging mass~produced journals in favor of creating my own from scratch with materials that I honor and value.

“The Great Cultural Journey” by Brus Rubio, painted on llanchama. 2016.

Returning to the Root

I first discovered this paper/bark/fabric/material in Centro Artesanal Anaconda, in Iquitos. I walked into an artist’s stall and saw all these incredible creations made from an interesting material that felt so nice to touch. Soft like velvet, but sturdier, like thick construction paper, yet quick to remove creases. In the stall there were bags, shoes, hats, purses, and wallets all made from it.

The owner of the store, Don Virgilio, greeted me warmly when I picked up a llanchama sombrero that reminded me of a Panama hat. When I tried it on, it unfortunately did not fit my head. The owner asked me if I would like him to make me one. I said that I would. He measured my head, got out a large, solitary sheet of llanchama paper, and told me to return the next day.

I returned the next day to a beautiful hat made in the exact same style, but it simply fit my head. I thanked Virgilio and left.

I then went to see a few new friends of mine who were doing an “artist in residence” program at the BQC hostel in Iquitos. Being within their creative energy, I was struck by a sudden realization: perhaps this hat and its material would be nice to paint. So that evening, I put down a few designs on my hat using a natural Amazonian liquid dye and medicine called Sangre de Drago (Dragon’s Blood). It’s a deep~red, viscous latex that oozes like a wound from the bark of the Croton lechleri tree.

Once I saw that the paper took the coloring beautifully, my sights focused. My heat ignited and I began a relentless hunt for full sheets of llanchama.

The process of making llanchama.

Searching in the Doorway

Originally, I wanted to use the paper to write poetry on. Similar to an ancient papyrus scroll, the llanchama could act as a vehicle to transfer spiritual poetry to others. Since the tree and fiber are sacred to the Bora people~ they paint spiritual images on it to represent maps of the unseen world~ I wanted to find a beautiful bridge for my own writings. I decided this was the route I wanted to go.

Unfortunately, finding llanchama in Iquitos~ the doorway to the Amazon~ proved to be much more difficult than I had planned. Virgilio only had that single large page he used for my hat, and he explained that a trader only came through Iquitos every few months to sell more from the native communities. I tried all of the other thirty vendors at Anaconda that day. None of them had any.

I went to other artisanal locations around Iquitos and had very little luck. Most people who had any llanchama had dismal quality~ holes in the llanchama were numerous, and the thickness varied wildly throughout the sheet. There was one woman who had a single clean, usable sheet in one location. There was another man across town who had another. But after days of searching, I was only able to find those two serviceable sheets of llanchama.

Everywhere I looked, everyone I asked for directions and clues always pointed me to one single location. Pebas~ Tierra de Amor. The Land of Love. So eventually, I bought my boat ticket and left the doorway of the Amazon behind.

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“The Way of Knowledge” by Brus Rubio, painted on llanchama.

The Land of Love

After a seven~hour boat ride (this is the fast boat, mind you– the slow boat would get you there in days rather than hours), I ended up in Pebas. Arriving at 10:00 PM at the dock of this small town of roughly 4,000 inhabitants was quite lucky because after I found a hostel, “El Amigo,” to stay at, the owner, Percy, let me know that the town’s electricity was turned off promptly at 11:00 PM.

Fast boats are interesting. Loud. Max capacity of 107. They’re like thin, metallic fish that glide precariously on top of the water.

The next morning, I walked back to the heart of town to begin searching for llanchama. When I arrived, I was semi~alarmed to see uniformed soldiers walking through the Land of Love with machine guns dangling from their shoulders. None of the locals, however, seemed alarmed at all. In fact, apart from the menacing machine guns, most of the soldiers held an ice cream cone or a cold papaya smoothie to handle the oppressive heat of the morning. I would come to find out that there is a military base in Pebas and the military was quite welcome~ it seemed to keep the place peaceful.

While talking to the locals of the area, they told me that it would be difficult to find llanchama in Pebas itself. Instead, I would have to travel deep into the territory of the Bora people to find their native fabric and the artisans who still made it. After a morning of fruitless searching, that seemed to be the universal answer.

Since I was already in the town square and people were staring at me anyway, I decided to pull out my ten-stringed ronroco and play some music, to the delight of curious rogue children and politely interested townsfolk. One older man came to join, clap his hands, and encourage the children to dance~ Don Orlando. I told him my plans to go to Boras to get llanchama, and he informed me the bridge going there was bad and that maybe it would be best to take a boat.

I considered his words, but eventually, I asked a local tuk~tuk driver (a motorcycle attached to a passenger carriage) if he would be interested in driving me to Boras to search for this sacred paper. After a quick negotiation, we left the Land of Love for the remote village of Boras.

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The town center of Pebas, Peru. Photo taken on June 5th, 2026.

Traversing Ancient Bridges

The road to Boras was wild. It was unlike any road I had ever traveled. To start with, the road was a single concrete lane about the width and height of a standard sidewalk. If another vehicle was driving the other way, it essentially turned into a very civilized game of chicken to see who would get off into the brush and let the other pass. It went right through neighborhoods, wiggled tightly around massive trees, and passed by soccer fields covered in beautiful, overgrown grass.

To add further excitement to the drive, the bridge that Don Orlando had warned me about was truly in serious disrepair. When we crossed that large, dilapidated bridge, the driver, Marcos, was careful to drive slowly and attentively so as not to plummet his large carriage tricycle into the swirling Amazon River below. In all, the drive was about an hour, and in that time, we crossed twenty-one of these precarious, lopsided bridges. I assume that they will not be rebuilt nor repaired until an unlucky tuk~tuk plummets through the rotten wood to the sauntering Amazon River below~ and the way they looked and felt, I could see that being this year.

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The road to Bora from Pebas, June 5th 2026.

The Way of Wisdom

We stopped by many little homes on the way, asking local families if they had any llanchama pages to sell or knew where we could find some. Unfortunately, we were unable to find any sheets and were continually directed further inland. During our drive, we did end up picking up a friend of Marcos, Don Toro, who was walking down the path with a massive bushel of green plantains balanced perfectly on his head.

Don Toro lived in Boras and was excited to help me with my quest. He knew of a few families that might have some sacred llanchama sheets and wanted to introduce me to them.

Eventually, we arrived at the center of the small native town of Boras. I could tell that we had arrived because the single~track sidewalk~road that we had been driving upon suddenly sprouted a second path that diverged from the first. And instead of just a couple of scattered homes, from this vantage, I could see at least two dozen.

Don Toro directed my chauffeur, Marcos, toward a few different homes of artists and artisans in the village. However, while all of them were exceedingly nice, none of the residents had raw llanchama for sale. I was offered some traditional ceremonial clothing for my trouble as a gift. I gladly accepted the clothing and marveled at the beautiful, raw way it was painted with natural colors from the Amazon.

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Bora song of abundance, performed by Don Wahcayu Churay Roque and son Alexandro. June 5th 2026 in Bora.

Singing with Fire and Flame

Eventually, I ended up at the home of the elder and leader of the community, Don Wahcayu Churay Roque~ an old, toothless man with bright, piercing eyes and a presence like a bonfire at midnight. He stood about 5’1” with bowed legs in a relaxed stance as he greeted me warmly from his doorway. I spoke with him, his son Alexandro, and his daughter Gladis as their children played in the outskirts of the home. While there, they explained a bit of Bora history to me and showed me the sacred symbols that mark members of the Bora. They also showed me work from their brother and son (Victor Churay Roque) who was killed in Lima simply for being Bora.

When I asked about the llanchama paper, they lamented that they did not have any full sheets for sale. However, they did show and share with me the traditional coronas (crowns) of the Bora people that were made of llanchama, explaining the deep difference between the crowns for men and women. The women’s crowns were thicker, and the feathers stuck straight up into the air with designs written on them. The men’s crowns were thinner, and had feathers that stuck up only in the back with a vibrant brim of bright macaw feathers in the front.

We ended our interaction with singing. “A father and son song!” Don Churay Roque proudly proclaimed as he and his son Alexandro sang a traditional Bora song of abundance, the main symbolism in the song being the Pijuayo fruit. They accompanied themselves with shakers that Alexandro had created, etched with the traditional markings and symbols of the Bora people.

I played for them my ten~stringed ronroco and sang one of my favorite songs, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” by Bobby McFerrin~ a song that generally encourages smiles, melodic whistles, and dancing, of which I did all three as I sang and played and danced! Before I left with Marcos on the tuk~tuk, the Churay Roque family invited me back to stay with them and learn more of their culture if I were interested.

Traditional llanchama clothing for a young woman. Shirt and skirt. Gifted to me on June 5th, 2026 in Bora.

Sana~ni~mUEAh (He who knows wordless wisdom)

The true destination of my quest finally appeared when I met Darwin Campos. His family had been making llanchama for generations. His parents put him through school and raised him entirely with the funds generated from llanchama. This was the true source of llanchama for the region. He welcomed me into his home and introduced me to his mother, sister, and family.

Then, he produced exactly what I had been searching for~ sacred llanchama paper, in a full sheet. It was wonderfully made, the absolute best quality I had ever seen or touched~ very fine, white, stretched, lightly textured, you could see the fibers of bark pounded down~ a perfect paper.

Darwin told me about the process, about the immense work involved, and the generations of skill that had been passed down through his family. He spoke about the artists that would come purchasing paper, the sheer difficulty of finding the specific sacred tree, and much more. Eventually, we exchanged information, and he said he would gladly ship me paper from Boras whenever I asked~ as long as he had some in supply. A perfect contact.

Before I left his home, I spoke with his mother for a while longer about the Bora community and their native language. I asked her if she could look at me and decide what word in her language I should know. She thought deeply for a moment before pronouncing a single word with a syllable I had never heard before in my life.

“Sana-ni-mUEAh” (The mUEAh part is made deep in the throat and comes toward the back of the tongue, almost similar to a gag reflex.)

It was explained to me that this word represents a conscious person with wisdom. Someone who knows. Someone who connects with their skin, their senses, to Source~ who knows reality before words are even formed. Not an intellectual, but a walking wisdom.

Holding that flawless paper in my hands, looking back at the twenty-one fragile bridges I had crossed to get here, I realized that this is exactly what the llanchama invites us to do. It asks us to slow down, to feel the texture of the forest with our skin, and to be a person who connects to the source of things before words ever get in the way. It was a perfect word, and a wonderful gift for the journey.

With Don Wahcayu Churay Roque and his son Alexandro. June 5th, 2026 in Bora.

Llanchama Journals

If you would like to purchase a llanchama journal, or have a hand written poem on one please feel free to contact me directly.

You can also obtain one my subscibing to my substack at a particular price point on the sliding scale! I’ll list the options below!

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Pour what you can into the bowl; choose your level of yearly support.

• $4+ | A heartfelt, digital thank-you note sent directly to your inbox.

• $50+ | A digital thank-you + a physical copy of my book, Stack Stones, mailed to your home.

• $100+ | A digital thank-you + a custom poem of your choice from my works, handwritten and mailed to your address.

• $200+ | A custom handwritten poem + a premium, colored hardcover edition of Stack Stones.

• $400+ | A premium hardcover of Stack Stones, a beautiful Amazonian macaw feather 🪶, and a custom poem written on natural llanchama bark-fiber from the Amazon rainforest, painted with the natural dyes of jungle fruits.

• $600+ | All of the $400 gifts + a jar of wild, sustainably harvested Amazonian rainforest honey 🍯 from BQC, alongside a personalized handwritten letter.

• $800+ | All of the above + a stunning, original Ayahuasca-inspired painting by Iquitos artist Brian Revellia (see an example below) to hang in your space.

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Bora paintings by Victor Churay Roque~ assasinated son of Don Willson Boutuna~ shown in “Estéticas Amazónicas Contemporáneas” written by María Eugenia Yllia. Shown to me by the Boutuna family on June 5th, 2026.

Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoyed!

With love,

Awe World Experiencer

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ease of breath
ease of movement
ease and flow, windfalls slow
rustle near and clear your mind
Heart speaks now
“shine”

- Journal entry

Last week, I was in Boras, Peru—an indigenous community nestled deep in the heart of the Amazon rainforest—searching for sacred yanchama bark paper. While there, I stumbled upon and befriended the world-renowned Peruvian painter Brus Rubio Churay, who uses his vibrant canvas to express his native Boras and Murui culture.

During our conversation, Brus spoke about his culture’s beliefs regarding humanity and the two Amazonian plants that comprise our nature: Mapacho (representing the fire within man) and sweet yuca (which calms and harnesses that inner fire, allowing us to create). While our three-hour conversation beautifully intertwined Amazonian folklore with art and symbolism, today I want to honor the native tobacco, Mapacho.

To understand Mapacho is to understand how the communities of the Amazon bridge the physical and spiritual worlds through the breath mingled with the elements of fire and air.

In this article I will be using much of Brus Rubio’s artwork as breaks, showing the importance of Mapacho with symbolism for his cultures. Click here to navigate to his website.

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With Brus Rubio at his home in Boras, Peru.

The Smoke is a Doorway of Honor

In my many visits to the Amazon rainforest, Mapacho has been the undeniable common thread connecting every local wise person I meet. This sacred tobacco (Nicotiana rustica) is grown exclusively within the jungle. Locals would never dream of manipulating it, or the soil around it, with chemicals. It is an all-natural process commanding the highest form of reverence. Mapacho must be pure as its purpose is more important than money. In fact, locals will tell you that you should never even mix Mapacho with other herbs; doing so is seen as irreverent, diluting the medicine’s pure intent.

When Mapacho is smoked ritualistically, the smoke becomes a doorway. This is beautifully illustrated in the Pago a la Tierra (Payment to the Earth) ceremony, which invokes the elements of fire and air through four intentional exhales:

• The Right Shoulder: An exhale to honor Pachamama (Mother Earth), the sustainer of all life and the source of all life-force.

• The Left Shoulder: An exhale to honor the Sacred Dead—the ancestors whose infinite, historical interactions allowed you to exist here today.

• Straight Up: An exhale above the head to purify your own spirit, releasing any negativity or unprocessed conscious and subconscious emotions.

• Down into the Shirt: A final exhale over the heart, acting as a protective ward against negative energies.

By following this ritual, a person cleanses their spirit and respectfully announces their presence to the jungle.

(Mapacho can be drunk as a purgative drink for the body if someone is really sick, however I want to focus on the ceremony of smoking it- as that is more common.)

The Road of Knowledge - Acrylic on Llanchama (Note the representation of Mapacho in human form.)

Knocking on Chullachaki’s Door

Mapacho is smoked ritualistically whenever the rainforest is involved. It is a quintessential part of intense Ayahuasca ceremonies, but it also permeates the smallest daily tasks—like picking papayas or simply walking through the dense Amazonian brush.

In Amazonian folklore, the tobacco acts as an intermediary to announce oneself to Chullachaki, the avatar and guardian of the rainforest. Chullachaki is a non-malicious trickster who can change his appearance, but he is always betrayed by his pointed ears, one human foot, and one hoofed foot. Because he is the physical representation of the jungle, he does his best to protect his environment. If he is not shown respect, locals believe he will play tricks on the disrespectful party, leaving them lost or disoriented.

Locals believe Mapacho was gifted to them by Chullachaki so that humanity and the rainforest could live in harmony. I like to think of smoking Mapacho as knocking on the front door before walking into someone’s home. It’s a way of saying, “Hello, I am here, and I am taking this papaya. Thank you!”

They smoke it when transforming a plant into medicine, essentially letting the jungle’s guardian know, “I am using a few of your ingredients to make a cake. Look!” It even applies to walking the jungle paths, acknowledging that your footsteps might disrupt the tiny saplings and critters that make up Chullachaki’s body.

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Our Grandfather Guiding the Children - Acrylic on Canvas ((Note the representation of Mapacho in human form.)

A Ward Against Negative Energy - Tunche, Mosquitos, and Bad People.

Beyond showing respect, Mapacho is a fierce protector. It is used to ward off general negative energy and a much more malicious rainforest entity: the Tunche.

The Tunche is a wandering spirit that predatorily preys on the vulnerable—those unable to defend themselves in either the physical or spiritual realms. This includes babies, lost travelers, or those in the deep, defenseless throes of an Ayahuasca or Kambo ceremony.

A perfect physical representation of the Tunche’s parasitic nature is the jungle mosquito. If caught in a swarm, your lifeblood is drawn away, causing physical and mental distress, sickness, or worse.

Interestingly, Mapacho is the perfect antidote to both. Just as the potent smoke deters physical mosquitoes, the spiritual essence of the tobacco repels the Tunche. Locals say that entities holding parasitic, negative energy simply cannot stand the smell of Mapacho.

Because newborns in rural communities are particularly vulnerable to both mosquitoes and the Tunche, local shamans will perform a protection ceremony for the family. The shaman gently blows Mapacho smoke over the child’s body—careful, of course, not to get any in the baby’s airways—to purify, welcome, and protect the new community member. When older children get sick, cannot sleep, or act restless, Mapacho is the first remedy families reach for to restore calm to the mind and body.

Similarly, Ayahuasca shamans utilize Mapacho before and during the brewing of their medicine, blowing smoke over the caldron and their patients to keep the space pure. They keep a vigilant eye out for the heavy, cold presence of the Tunche, using Mapacho as their primary shield.

(Bonus: It is said that people who have “bad energy” and want to do you harm simply don’t like the smell of mapacho. So they, like the mosquitos, are immediatly deterred by the smell of it allowing you to have more peace in your daily life. This is also why blowing it in your shirt can be seen as helpful.)

Mapacho Vendors on the Streets of Belen Market

The Breath of the Market

If you want to see how deeply this sacred plant is woven into the fabric of everyday Amazonian life, you only need to visit the floating Belén Market in Iquitos.

Belén is a multi-block, chaotic cornucopia of exotic fruits, local meats, and jungle remedies sold from wooden stands or directly off blankets on the ground. Here, you will find giant tarps covered in drying Mapacho leaves. Artisans sit nearby, masterfully hand-rolling the loose-leaf tobacco into tightly wrapped cigarettes and cigars.

The pricing is such:

• 1 Sol ($0.30 USD): Buys you a small, quick cigar.

• 3 Soles ($0.90 USD): Gets you a standard-sized cigar.

• 10 Soles ($3.00 USD): Yields a behemoth that you can puff away at for hours.

The patrons lining up at these sidewalk shops represent the entire tapestry of the Amazon. You will see spiritual shamans standing shoulder-to-shoulder with hunters, farmers, papaya pickers, and new parents. For all of them, Mapacho is not a vice; it is a shared breath of respect, safety, culture, and connection to the wild world they call home.

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The Meditation - Acrylic on Fabric (Notice where mapacho shows up here)

All artwork in this piece was from Brus Rubio of the Boras and Murui culture.

I hope you enjoyed!

With love,

Awe World Experiencer

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• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

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Photo with Don Pablo Taricuarima and his wife, Llicela Jesús Lima

Good day! Yesterday, I had the privilege of conversing with one of the last remaining speakers of a native language in the Amazon rainforest: Don Pablo Taricuarima.

In a four-hour conversation, I learned about the mythology of the Kukama people, their culture, and their native tongue. Because this could easily fill a massive book, I am going to keep things short and digestible for Substack. I will be focusing primarily on my personal experience with Don Pablo, but I have provided links to music, literary works, references, and the full audio recordings of my time with him at the end of this post.

It was an absolute pleasure and honor to speak with him. I hope you enjoy this writing.

With love and gratitude,

Awe

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Kukama symbol, “Aunimama - Mother of Rivers” replicated by Don Pablo Taricuarima.

Intro

Last week, while in Iquitos, Peru, I stumbled across an international artists-in-residence program. The creators were using the myths of the Amazon rainforest to inspire and guide their art projects. While talking to one of the artists, Lucy (check out her Instagram and her art here), she told me about the mythology of the Kukama people she had learned from Don Pablo Taricuarima. Specifically, she was basing her artwork on the Kukama’s five stages of consciousness.

As I listened to her recount their worldview, my jaw dropped. At points, I couldn’t contain myself—I laughed out loud, clapped my hands together and danced a couple of steps.

This Kukama worldview mirrored my own ayahuasca experience from 16 years ago—an experience where I had perceived the world not as solid matter, but as a shifting, conscious kaledascopic liquid. (You can read the full story of that ayahuasca experience here).

Hearing Lucy speak answered so many questions I had carried for nearly two decades. Up until that afternoon, I assumed I had just had a sui generis experience—that my own mind had invented a hyper-specific set of symbols to and reference points to understand the “dream realm” medicine. But this changed everything.

It was as if I had traveled to Greece, knowing absolutely nothing of its history, and had a spiritual experience where I met Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon—where I watched Hercules slay a hydra without knowing what a hydra was. Then, imagine returning home, assuming it was all just a unique spiritual journey, only to open a book years later and find the exact tale recorded perfectly.

I was electrified. I needed to talk to Don Pablo.

I asked for his contact information, scheduled a time to meet, left the bustling center of Iquitos, and eventually after a long day of traveling sat down in his home to chat.

Kukama symbol, “Yatirica parana - When the rivers look for their mother” replicated by Girard

Culture

“How is the river?”

Known as the “People of Water,” the Kukama’s rich heritage is defined entirely by river-based livelihoods. According to Don Pablo, the most common greeting they give one another is not “Hello” or “How are you?” It is: “How is the river?”

This greeting carries endless layers of meaning. How is life? How is work? How is the family? Or, quite literally, How is the water today?

Because their survival and mythology completely encircle the water, the mood and attitude of the river on any given day dictates their general well-being. By looking at the water, they can tell if it is a good day for fishing, if the water is clear for swimming, or if things look polluted and ominous. The first thing a Kukama looks at in the morning is the river—its state is a direct reflection of the individual soul.

Western readers might misinterpret this as lawlessness or a lack of ethics. However, the Kukama morality system isn’t based on rigid, abstract concepts of sin and virtue—it is built on harmony, community cohesion, and alignment with nature.

This culture does not rely on an externalized system of behavioral rules. Kukama society is incredibly accepting, as they must be when life is dictated by a force completely outside of their control: the river. They understand that the river is neither good nor bad; it simply is. It acts differently hour by hour, day by day, season by season. Consequently, their views on themselves and one another are just as fluid. There are no expectations, no societal pressure. They simply see how things are and flow from there.

A beautiful example of this is their view of children. Children are never expected to be anything other than what they want to be in the present moment. They are under no pressure to study, learn, or meet ideas outside of their own mind.

Don Pablo assured me:

If a child wants to learn how to carve a canoe, they are welcome to sit with the masters and learn the technique. If boredom falls upon them, or if a different interest pulls them away, no one shames the child or asks them to stay. It is pure acceptance. “How is the river?”

The same is true for adults. If a master canoe maker simply decides he no longer wants to make canoes and chooses to do something else entirely, no explanation is needed. None of his students worry, no one complains, no one asks why. It simply is. “How is the river?”

The concepts of rigid right and wrong were introduced to their way of being by the Spaniards through Catholicism. But this was simply too rigid for the flowing People of Water. After all, is there a “correct” way for a river to behave?

“Before that,” Don Pablo told me, “life was simple. People were loving. Communities were strong.”

Don Pablo lamented that his people have been shamed and persecuted across generations. In fact, according to Peru’s Ministry of Culture, only about 10,000 people self-identified as Kukama-Kukamiria in the last major census. WWF Peru notes that they are often called the “invisible indigenous people” because so many have hidden their identity to escape rejection.

Yet, as nonchalant as ever, Don Pablo seems to accept these harsh historical currents. How is the river today?

At one point, the number of Kukama people dwindled to only a few hundred souls (mai in Kukama). While that number has risen back to nearly 10,000, many of the youth remain frightened or ashamed to claim their heritage. But that’s okay—how is the river today? Tragically, because of these historical pressures, the number of fluent native speakers has fallen drastically.

This is where Don Pablo’s mission comes alive. He loves to share his language with others, and I was lucky enough to learn a few words from him.

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Kukama symbol, “Parana puna - exaultation of the rivers and the shores” replicated by Lidia Canayo.

Vocabulary

The first word I asked him to teach me was breathe.

“Tsiki”

It sounds like the physical act: a sharp inhale followed by an exhale. Interestingly, for the River People, tsiki also means “to fish.”

You are welcome to make your own interpretation of that connection, but in many Amazonian worldviews, hunting or fishing is viewed as a literal exchange of breath or life-force between species. For me, the link is clear. How is the river?

He also taught me about the linguistic modifiers, or “enhancers,” that attach to words. For example:

• Eyu: To eat.

• -tara (Modifier for inspiration): Eyutara = I am inspired to eat.

• -mira (Modifier for obligation): Eyumira = I am obligated to eat.

It is a profound way of looking at human action. There is no moral judgment assigned to the deed, but rather a style of direct, honest looking—a linguistic trait you might also find in Zen Buddhism. How is the river?

Furthermore, there is no single “correct way” to speak the language, a fact that beautifully mirrors their philosophy on life. Because the Kukama tongue was never formalized, it retains a natural growth and fluidity.

To paraphrase Don Pablo:

How is the river? It allows for one’s own beautiful individuality to shine through.

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Kukama symbolism, “ Mustsana - Medicine of Life” replicated by Lidia Canayo

Mythology

If the Kukama language is fluid like the river, their mythology is what happens when you dive beneath its surface. To Western eyes, reality is flat. To the Kukama, reality is a multi-layered river, existing all at once. To experience these layers, you simply have to remove the veil.

But before we can understand their universe, we have to unlearn how we view light and shadow. In the West, darkness is equated with evil, and light with purity. In the deep Amazon, Don Pablo explained a beautifully inverted truth.

The Flavor of Darkness: The Dual Spirits

In the Kukama worldview, everything possesses a spirit. Individual people, plants, canoes, and houses all hold an individual soul (mai), while simultaneously belonging to a collective soul “Mama”—a spirit mother that binds them together.

Rather than a spiritual war between good and evil, the Kukama see the spiritual realm through two primary, balancing forces: a purifying spirit (associated with black) and a sickness-bringing spirit (associated with white).

Neither is judged as right or wrong. They simply are. If a shadow falls over a community, a Kukama does not panic; they simply look out at the water and ask, “How is the river?”

In the rainforest, black is the color of purity, longevity, and richness:

• The Deep and the Flavorful: Darker fruits and meats taste sweeter and richer. Dark woods are dense and last for generations, while white wood rots quickly.

• The Song and the Mystery: The bright, white birds of the rainforest are largely quiet, but the dark, shadowed birds sing the most breathtaking melodies.

• The Abyss of Life: The shallow, sunlit waters of the river hold only tiny fish. It is in the dark, pitch-black depths of the river where the true mysteries hide, and where the massive fish live.

To the Kukama, light is beautiful, it brings growth, and it is entirely welcome—but it is temporary. Light is simply a brief pause, a temporary postponement of the eternal, rich darkness. When life shifts from the sunlit surface to the dark unknown, they accept the transition with a familiar clear and easy eyes: “How is the river?”

The Five Realms of Coexistence/Consciousness

1. Ikuari (Below the River)

This is the primordial world—an ancient, untouched jungle existing beneath the riverbed. The beings who inhabit this first layer do not have mouths. They do not kill or chew; instead, they sustain themselves entirely by inhaling the fragrance of the world. It is a form of nourishment more ancient and pure than physical food.

Yet, this world is deeply interconnected with ours: when we pollute the surface waters, the toxins seep downward, and the fragrance-eaters of the primordial world begin to fall ill. If the ancient ones are suffering, the harmony of the universe cracks. “How is the river?”

2. The Aquatic World (The River)

This is the domain of the water. Here, fish are not viewed merely as solitary animals, but as entire cities, communities, and nations governed by Ipira Mama, the Mother of the Fish. When a Kukama eats a fish, they understand they are consuming a collective life form much larger than a singular unit.

Moving through these aquatic cities are the pink river dolphins—the bufeos colorados. In Amazonian lore, they are the shape-shifting Yacuruna (water people), the bringers of medicine and keepers of underwater secrets who ride black caimans through the deep currents. If a fisherman respects these waters, his nets are full. If he is greedy, the Yacuruna can unravel his very memory. To check the balance of this exchange, one must always ask: “How is the river?”

3. Tahua (Our World)

This is the terrestrial realm of the everyday. It is the surface of the river where life happens as we physically see it—the world of manipulation, physical form, and action. However, it carries a heavy burden: it is the regular choices made in this third world that echo outward, polluting or purifying the realms above and below it.

When human greed stains the water with oil or waste, the illness is felt by the dolphin-people in World 2 and the fragrance-eaters in World 1. The state of our souls is laid bare on the surface of the water. “How is the river?”

4. The Spirit Realm

This is the cosmic web where every living spirit interacts outside of physical constraints. It contains the sacred dead (anything that has ever held life), current living inhabitants, and future lifeforms not yet born. It is also the space of unaddressed truth. For instance, you and a friend might get along perfectly here in the third world, but down in the fourth world, your spirits might be locked in combat, processing an unresolved tension.

The spirit realm is the ultimate wellspring of knowledge:

• The Masters: It is where the spirits of the Master Plants (like Ayahuasca) reside, and where the collective knowledge of Master Tradesmen lives. If an artisan or a hunter finds their true purpose in the physical world (World 3), their spirit continues to practice and enjoy that craft here eternally.

• The Eternal Feast: Those who pass away shed the need to feed a physical body, living forever in a state of pure, cosmic interaction. When an elder passes, they do not leave; they simply change currents. “How is the river?”

5. The Light Galaxy

At the absolute apex of existence lies a realm that defies human vocabulary. Every living soul that ever was or ever will be—plant, animal, human, or otherwise—carries a spark of light. In this final layer, those lights simply exist: shining, reflecting, and pulsing off of one another.

Don Pablo noted that not much can be spoken about this place. It sits entirely beyond the boundaries of human knowledge and intellect. It is not a place of wisdom to be attained; it is simply a singular, pulsing, unified being of light. It is the ultimate source—the great ocean into which all rivers eventually flow.

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Iquitos, Peru

Kukama Music

To immerse yourself in the rhythm of the Kukama people, here are a few songs that Don Pablo shared with me during our conversation:

• Listen: Kukama Soundscape on Instagram

• Listen: Traditional Song on YouTube (Track 1)

• Listen: Traditional Song on YouTube (Track 2)

Raw Audio Recordings of my time with Don Pablo

Audio 1

Audio 2

Audio 3

Audio 4

For Further Exploration

• Language: For a full Spanish-to-Kukama dictionary, explore the FORMABIAP 2015 Dictionary.

• Culture: Read more about the preservation initiatives via the University of New Mexico’s Kukama Project.

• Don Pablo’s Work: Read about his youth music initiative in this local feature: Los Niños Cantores de Venecia.

• Art & Symbolism: Dive into Don Pablo’s research papers on iconography and ceramics: Murutakarapan: Diseños Kukama-Kukamiria and related symbolism figures.

• Conservation Context: Learn more about the challenges facing the community via WWF Peru: The Invisible Indigenous People.

I hope you enjoyed!

With love,

Awe World Experiencer

Share

Find my other books on Amazon!

• poems for grace

• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

• Inner Children at Play

• Love’s Traveler

• beingSelf

• Stack Stones

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Drifting clouds and flowing water,
falling leaves and flying petals,
have been doing it for you,
for a long time.

- Zen Capping Phrase

Dear Friends,

For the past two years, I have been living fully within my heart and intuition. I’ve traveled 30,000 miles, lived in foreign countries, written ten books, and poured my soul into over 100 Substack essays. I have been a finalist for Poet Laureate, hosted tea ceremonies, sung my way onto an airplane for free passage, walked barefoot through deserts and jungles — sharing moon~dripped silences with old souls and poets.

Some call me a mystic; some call me a fool. In short: I am living. Truly living. And I have done my best to track each sunrise and changing diaphanous color so that I might offer true sweet nourishment back into the world.

No one shares empty bowls with their friends.

To keep pouring this nourishment freely, I am running a sliding scale campaign to welcome 100 new paid subscribers into this peaceful and supportive space. Reaching this milestone unlocks a permanent visibility boost on Substack and allows the reach of authorship to expand.

To make this circle accessible to everyone, I am offering a Sliding Scale Yearly Membership from $4 to $999. Pay what your heart dictates, or what your current season allows. Every act of support helps tremendously.

To honor your presence and support, I have dreamed up a series of tangible exchanges ~ from handwritten poems to beautiful treasures from the Amazon rainforest.

Thank you so much for playing in this river of friendship with me.

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

Sliding Scale Support

Years ago, seeking fire
I found it mingled with smoke;
Today, carrying spring water
I return wrapped in the moon.

- Zen Capping Phrase

The Sliding Scale: $4 – $999

Pour what you can into the bowl; choose your level of yearly support.

• $4+ | A heartfelt, digital thank-you note sent directly to your inbox.

• $50+ | A digital thank-you + a physical copy of my book, Stack Stones, mailed to your home.

• $100+ | A digital thank-you + a custom poem of your choice from my works, handwritten and mailed to your address.

• $200+ | A custom handwritten poem + a premium, colored hardcover edition of Stack Stones.

• $400+ | A premium hardcover of Stack Stones, a beautiful Amazonian macaw feather 🪶, and a custom poem written on natural yanchama bark-fiber from the Amazon rainforest, painted with the natural dyes of jungle fruits.

• $600+ | All of the $400 gifts + a jar of wild, sustainably harvested Amazonian rainforest honey 🍯 from BQC, alongside a personalized handwritten letter.

• $800+ | All of the above + a stunning, original Ayahuasca-inspired painting by Iquitos artist Brian Revellia (see an example below) to hang in your space.

• $999 | All of the above + a 52-week creative journey. We will meet for a weekly 30-minute Zoom call dedicated to your creative goals, deep artist feedback, and access to my artist connections. The goal isn’t to teach you to write like me—it’s to empower you to create authentically like you!

Sliding Scale Support

Artwork by Brian Revilla

Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoyed!

With love,

Awe World Experiencer

Share

Find my other books on Amazon!

• poems for grace

• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

• Inner Children at Play

• Love’s Traveler

• beingSelf

• Stack Stones

To Donate:

Venmo: AweWorldExperiencer

BuyMeACoffee: buymeacoffee.com/aweworldexperiencer

Social Media:

IG: AweWorldExperiencer

TikTok: AweWorldExperiencer

You have true vision
participate in any way you like
but do not corrupt your sight.

- Journal entry

Good day! Today I want to take a moment to write about the four core beliefs I have about ‘teaching’ and my philosophy I have concerning what that means. My style and philosophy does follow more a zen approach. I hope you enjoy the ideas brought forth here.

I also start this piece with a morning desire for you.

If you would like, I think this song is a wonderful introduction to this piece. “Draw Something Beautiful - Ganavya.”

With love and gratitude,

Awe World Experiencer

If you would like, you may purchase me a coffee here.

In the landscape of spring,
there is nothing superior and nothing inferior.
The flowering branches are naturally
some short and some long

- Zen Capping Phrase

Good Morning

I hope you slept well and had beautiful childlike dreams. I hope you adventured far, pursued passions, and unfurled fully into the sky. I Hope you feel loved as you wake, comfortable and snuggly. I hope your eyes glisten in the sunlight today. I hope your skin feels soft and perfect in the cool breeze. I hope your body delights in the earth underneath, and your hair is tousled gently by the playful wind. I hope flowers of all colors call to you, that fluffy white clouds smile upon you, that tree leaves and birds sing to you melodies and rhythms divine. I hope you smile and laugh freely, unencumbered by weights or perceived obligations. I hope your toes sing into the earth all the songs of your heart to plant verses of your dreams.

Introduction

There was a time in life where I was a professional teacher. For seven years I taught music classes, doing my best to relay my skills to others in hopes that they would gain the information or knowledge that they needed to pursue their goals. During that time, I came to understand four key actions that define a true teacher.

These four milestones, in order, are: Inspire, Encourage, Allow, and Realize.

These elements do not all need to be used with every single student to fulfill the role of a true teacher, but I find that all four naturally surface over time. Sometimes a true teacher will only use one, or perhaps two. There are moments where all are vital. In the end, teaching is simply giving the student exactly what they require in that specific moment.

Whenever I consider this dynamic, I always fall back to a particular analogy: a painter working on a pier. As he stands there painting, many people may come and look at his work. Unless the painter is spoken to directly, he simply continues working, lost in his colors, canvas and enjoyment. This idea can carry us through the entire evolution of ‘teaching’.

In the cup of death, I was
a breath of life, I remained
It would be a pity if I could not find this breath
again, I would be filled with sadness and absent peace.

- Abdur Rahman Jami

Inspire

By simply pursuing one’s passion in the public eye, there is an immediate opportunity to inspire someone else. Imagine a passerby coming close to our painter on the pier, completely enthralled by the process, suddenly filled with a rush of creative energy. When that inspiration hits, a universal energy begins coursing through the observer.

If that person leaves the pier immediately, purchases their own paints, and begins the artistic process entirely on their own, then the painter has already acted as a true teacher. No further interaction is required, and the student is beautifully on their way. The lesson was indirect, allowing confidence to pair itself seamlessly with expression from the very start.

put down the book you were studying
and touch eyes with me

- Journal Entry

Encourage

However, inspiration does not always lead straight to action. Sometimes, the person standing on the pier is filled with creative energy but lacks the courage to begin. They hit an internal ‘block’ and are not ready to paint alone. At this point, they might step forward and ask the practitioner for direct advice: “How do you mix your colors? How do I paint trees like that? How do I even get started?”

This is where the second milestone comes in: encouragement.

Encouragement is a beautiful action. It is the intentional act of pouring courage into someone so they can follow their own dreams and vital energy. This is fundamentally different from manipulation, where someone attempts to force another to follow the guide’s own dreams. It is also the opposite of discouragement, which actively attempts to remove courage from a person.

At this stage, the mentor becomes a direct force in the development of the student, demanding great compassion and care. It can be as simple as saying, “Here, why don’t you try?” or “There’s no wrong way to put paint on canvas.” Other times, it becomes more complex, with a student requesting structured lessons or deep technical tips. The focus, however, must remain entirely on building the student’s courage. If they feel they need a specific technique to feel brave enough to paint, the teacher develops bespoke systems to help them reach that threshold.

• Be aware that in this stage, a teacher who is more concerned with the act of “teaching” than the student’s actual development may begin giving unnecessary lessons. The superior path is to give the student only what they need to step onto their own journey, not to export all knowledge from teacher to student. The true teacher is not trying to preserve themselves in a student; they simply desire the fullest and most authentic expression from them. The mindset should be: “I want you to paint like you, you don’t need to paint like me.”

light dances and reflects back
completely full and empty of itself

- Journal Entry

Allow

Once enough encouragement is imparted and a student feels ready to begin, the next stage for a true teacher is to step back and allow. When you simply step back and give a student room to learn, the process becomes magical. In this stage, there is no active feedback, there is no constant assisting—it is just a deliberate giving of space.

Let’s assume the student returns to the pier with their own easel, canvas, paints, and brushes, setting up right next to their mentor. The student will have their own chaotic developmental process; they will try mixing their own colors and painting their own style of trees. The teacher can watch, but it is often better to simply return to one’s own canvas, allowing the student to observe if they desire, or to independently grow their own forms of expression.

Allow this space to be sacred. The only time a mentor should re-engage at this point is if the student directly requests help. You have to trust your student to navigate their own growth patterns, struggle through their own problems, and build self-reliance. Courage comes first; then, in time, it transmutes into confidence. By simply allowing, and choosing not to interfere, you provide the fertile ground that confidence requires to grow.

What a privalage it is to grow into someone who I used to need.

- Journal entry

Realize

Finally, the last stage arrives, which may or may not happen organically: realization. The student has now developed an understanding, completed a piece of art, or mastered a certain skill. When they are finished, there may be a sudden moment of offered connection. The student may turn and ask to show their work to the teacher. I consider this a great honor, and I always treat it as such.

At this stage, the teacher is simply an attentive observer who has the opportunity to truly see and realize the work of the student. A confident student is not asking for advice or technical feedback here; they are simply sharing. Take that moment to fully appreciate and perceive what has been created. Understand that it is an intimate expression of your student, and it does not need to conform to your own personal standards.

Ask interested questions, find points of beauty, and be entirely attentive. It is highly possible that nothing further is wanted except for pure non-transactional connection. Connect. Be joyous. If, down the line, they explicitly ask for deeper feedback to further their development, you can gently return to the encouragement stage, and then allow once more. But in this moment, simply witness them.

The Eternal Fragrance
Blossom, expand fully open, petals have come to a completion.
You may not be able to experience your own aroma- however you can see how others react to you to understand that aroma.
Go with the flow- your aroma will open the hearts of others near you
You are always where you need to be.
Now watch,
the first flower of spring announces to the world that it is time to bloom.
That is you.

- Journal entry

Summary

A true teacher simply wants others to live their lives to the fullest, arriving at the most authentic expression of who they are. They want others to experience freedom and to create beauty for themselves to enjoy in this lifetime.

In your own life, you are probably inspiring many people entirely unbeknownst to you. Continue to live your most beautiful life. If someone should ever approach you for advice, do your best to instill courage into them so they can follow their own authentic path. Allow others to grow and develop on their own terms without interference. And if the opportunity ever arises to realize someone’s work, treat that moment with deep respect and honor.

In this way, you too are a true teacher.

Thank you for reading,

I hope you enjoyed!

With love,

Awe World Experiencer

Share

Find my other books on Amazon!

• poems for grace

• A Soft Serenity

• the Truth is

• Inner Children at Play

• Love’s Traveler

• beingSelf

• Stack Stones

To Donate:

Venmo: AweWorldExperiencer

BuyMeACoffee: buymeacoffee.com/aweworldexperiencer

Social Media:

IG: AweWorldExperiencer

TikTok: AweWorldExperiencer

Auralite-23. The exact crystal these stories are about.

I have finally returned to Iquitos, Peru to retrieve my favorite crystal, Auralite 23. I left it here in March of 2024 with three indigenous shamans after they asked for spiritual assistance in developing their indigenous communities.

Now that it is back in my possession, I decided I would write an article about three manifestation stories I have witnessed occur to friends with this crystal. There have been many more stories I could tell, but since these three happened so quickly and in rapid succession I will confine the writing to just these three. I will simply relay the stories as they unfolded- poetically but without embellishment- for your own mind, heart, and inspiration to unfold as it will.

I will also include an introductory story as to how it came to be with me.

I hope you enjoy.

With love and gratitude,

Awe

If you would like to gift me a coffee, you may do so here.

Inside of Gaia’s Gallery. San Luis Obispo, California

PRELUDE

Andrew and J-Glow

It came to me years ago on a Sunday, January 28th 2024.

Or better yet, it called me and I came.

***

After a curious and intuitive drive to San Luis Obispo from Santa Barbara, California I was led by the heart into a crystal shop- Gaia’s Gallery. Or as I call it, Gaia.

As I entered the large sun-lit shop, I was greeted by the pleasing deep vibrations of a didgeridoo. A young man, dressed in loose and laid back artisanal clothing with long brown hair, was slowly moving through the store ‘purifying’ the crystals with his droning length of eucalyptus.

I stood a few feet past the entrance and was simply entranced. The store was empty of customers, but it was completely full of refracting mesmeric sound. I watched the delicate way he would move this primordial aboriginal instrument to each individual crystal and how he paired those movements with his deft steps created a swaying hypnotic dance I had never seen before.

It was a couple of minutes before his rumbling song faded away into the earth and the air was still again. It felt as clean as the early morning after a rainstorm.

At that time, he looked up, saw me, and smiled. I returned the smile and thanked him for the music.

“I’m Andrew. I was just cleansing these crystals for their new owners. Would you also like to be cleansed?”

“I would love that. Thank you” I replied.

Andrew asked me to spread my arms out parallel to the ground and relax. I closed my eyes and it began.

Archaic elemental sounds of rolling thunder, roiling waves, churning earth, and roaring fire came from the tube directed at, and directly into, my heart. The vibration was all encompassing, as if all of my skin was suddenly standing up (like mountainous goosebumps) but also softly rippling like a water dropping into a still pond coupled with the dance that leaves make in summer breezes.

Andrew carefully proceeded to move the bell of the instrument through each of my limbs- front and back-, across my chest and back, and finally around my neck and head.

When he finished my body continued to reverberate the vibrations of those channeled elements. We smiled again at each other and he asked,

“What brings you in today?”

“I don’t know. I drove here out of intuition and immediately walked into your store.”

He nodded his understanding.

“Would you like to show me something in your store?”

His smile turned into a laugh as his eyes glittered starlight.

“I know just the thing!”

We walked to a case on the right hand side of the store containing interesting “amethyst-ish” style stones. He manifested a key and opened the door.

“This is what I think you’re here for today!”

He reached in, pulled out a rhombus shaped crystal, and reverently placed it in my hands.

It could have been the residual effects of the didigeridoo, but my hands were vibrating.

“Ooh Andrew that’s the perfect stone for him!” I heard a clear voice shine through the air.

I turned to see a woman standing to my left, twinkling autumnal-leaf eyes unblinking with pupils like Saturn. She was smiling something broader than the horizon.

“Those just came in. They’re special.” She proclaimed as easily as one would welcome Saturday.

“I agree.” I said as my buzzing fingers investigated both the rough and smooth surfaces of the stone. “What can you tell me about it?”

Her eyes grew like a candle flame.

“I can tell you a lot about it. But seeing you, first I’m feeling called to tell you how we acquired them.”

I nodded.

“Last week, I received a strong [intuitive] ‘transmission.’ I saw the parking lot of the CVS Pharmacy, I saw a white van arrive in a parking spot. I saw that his van was full of these crystals” gesturing to the case, “I walked to Bob, the owner, and told him to drive there immediately, and purchase whatever crystals he found from a man in a white van. Bob looked at me briefly like I lost my mind, but seeing my conviction, he left and went there.

Five minutes after Bob arrived at the parking lot, probably still a little baffled at my sudden specific instructions,” she mused, “a white van pulled into the parking spot I described. Bob approached the driver and learned that he had just arrived in San Luis Obispo to sell a large batch of Auralite-23 crystals. The driver opened the van and showed them to Bob, who eventually purchased them all.

Now they’re here!” She said with gold glitter in her voice.

As I had just arrived in Gaia purely on intuition, I found I believed her story.

“Auralite-23?”

“That’s what they’re called. A meteorite struck Earth 1.6 billion years ago in Canada and fused 23 different compounds together- including gold, platinum, and amethyst!” She was melodic now, “it was discovered in 2007. This is the newest crystal for humanity!”

It felt good in my hands. Warm. Comforting. Beautiful.

I could not have known what it really was I was holding.

If you would like to gift me a coffee, you may do so here.

Auralite-23 and it’s composites.

Where I held my writer’s meetings for years. Elsie’s Tavern. Santa Barbara, California