Dorion Mode - A blog by Robinson Dorion.

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You know the drill.

The finca was set down a dirt road in the village of Campana, a tiny town just past Quesos Chela. You turn off the Interamericana in the mountain bowl above where Rio Salado cuts through the mangroves and sanbar upon entering the Bay of Chame. In our walk from the pavement, we were escorted by three dogs, one of which being El Vacaperro.⁽ⁱ⁾ Upon arrival on Friday, as the afternoon golden hour was commencing, we were greeted by a heifer and some chickens in the front yard. The principal structure has a pitched metal roof supported by pillars --but no walls-- and covering an area approximately 10 by 15 meters.

I was part of the first group to arrive, there were 7 of us. We put our belongings down and slowly started to cool down, unpack, clean up and explore the space. I took a stroll a short ways down the hill to get my bearings and some solitude. On my way back, I picked a domino up off the ground, the Ace-Two to be exact. It called my attention, so I put it in my pocket. Upon returning, El Moro⁽ⁱⁱ⁾ offered me a rustic, sweet smelling stogie, which I gladly sparked as I sat on the bench set down a shallow slope from the structure. I didn't take as many pics as I could have, but I have a few to share :

Geicko⁽ⁱⁱⁱ⁾ warmed up^(iv) his guitar and harmonica. A neighbor arrived in a white Hilux with two sons and a bed full of hardwood logs. I asked him the species as we were helping him unload and he told me, but the name escapes me now. Fellow travelers, feel free to help a pelao out in the comment box !

As the sun dipped to close the gap between it and the ridge of the mountain above us, I unrolled my mats and set up the space where I'd sit and lie for the two nights to come, but barely catch a wink of sleep. Fellow travelers started trickling in. Erica was wearing a Brains tshirt, which I immediately recognized and she confirmed was the company which provides Bitcoin mining hardware and services. Her partner, Javier, has, among other businesses, a facility in Paraguay for the purpose. An Andalusian couple, Thais and Andres, who make their chen chen sailing chartered Balleneros around the world arrived and were very pleasant and stayed both nights. The sun sets at about 6 this time of year.^(v) As the dusk was turning to dark, I hiked up the hill above to explore some more and hum into my harmonica. When I returned, I chatted more and got to know the various folks, including my Panamanian neighbors Inti and Maribeth who were also there for both nights. I also made sure to lay down, rest, and preserve my energy for the night to come.

I was there to take the ancestral medicine Yage, also known as Ayahuasca. It's made of a mix of the Banisteriopsis caapi vine and Diplopterys cabrerana, aka chagrapanga, both of which are extracted from the ancient Amazon. This wasn't my cherry popping ceremony, I had a great experience about 18 months prior in the first month I was back on the Isthmus after my sabbatical during the panicdemia with a shaman from the Shipibo-Conibo tradition of Peru. I went on the belief that it would help me see what I already know, but for one reason or another have built up internal resistance to digesting, which causes me to be blind and ignorant and trapped in the past. The resistance is there for a reason, it emerged to protect me at a time and place where I was more vulnerable and my environment more insane. That being said, the resistance no longer serves me ; instead, it holds me back from manifesting my potential and sharing my gifts with the world. As this blog as evidence, I've been doing a lot of work in the last months and have grown quite a lot, to the point which I think my growth is at an ascending point of inflection. So I took the opportunity to take the medicine.

The Banisteriopsis caapi acts as the Monoamine Oxidase Inhibitor (MAOI), which makes the DMT in the chagrapanga orally active --N,N-Dimethyltryptamine (N,N-DMT) and 5-methoxy-N,N-dimethyltryptamine (5-MeO-DMT) to be exact, which are substituted tryptamines or seratonin analogues. "The spirit molecule" raises the body's vibration and brings the mind to a beautiful plane where the veil of resistance can be pierced and energy liberated. It stimulates nueroplasticity and neurogenesis allows the pathways in the nervous system to be reorganized in a more healthy manner that serves my present. What happens in the ceremony is the sowing of seeds, which need to be respected and cultivated with systematic actions in the hours, days, weeks, months and years which follow in order to emerge into trees and bear the sweet fruit they latently possess. Discipline was the virtue most emphasized by Tambo.^(vi) Everything starts with and ends with discipline.

Around 10 or so I helped El Moro spark the campfire to help us warm as the temperature dropped and wind kicked up. Here :

Kwichi^(vii) blessed me with some Rape',^(viii) which is a fine tobacco^(ix) snuff that's gently blown up each of one's nostrils to activate the body to accept and absorb the medicine. Sometime a little after 11, Tambo, the Shaman with El Salvadorean roots, arrived with Diego, one of his helpers. Around midnight, we gathered around to listen to him introduce himself, explain the ceremony and to lay down the ground rules.^(x) He shared his intention and super power for the evening and prompted everyone to share their name, intention and super power with the group, one by one.

Me explique que estoy en un punto de inflexion ascendiente en mi crecimiento pero estoy experimentando algunas formas de resistencia. Entonces, quiero conocer mejor la resistencia para superarla y identificar los proximos pasos para la nueva fase de mi desarrollamiento. Ademas, la medicina esta dicho llevar la energia de la abuela, entonces querria hablar con mi abuela quien se murrio en enero despues de cien y medio anyos de la vida. Mi super poder para la noche era curiosidad.

After everyone had shared, Tambo blessed and consumed the first dose and one by one la familia approached his table, received his blessing and consumed the communion, which by volume was a 60-90 milliliters per dose. I washed mine down with a Chondur liquor, returned to my space and covered up. I was wearing both pairs of my cotton socks, bamboo slacks, cotton polo, cashmere sweater and medium weight cotton quarter zip and wrapped myself in a thin fleece blanket. It wasn't too cold, I've certainly golfed in colder weather, but the wind was nippy and I wanted to wrap in my heat and preserve my energy for the first phase. I covered my eyes with my hat and put the blanket over my head so as to deprive my vision from external input. Then I breathed deeply and slowly and exercised my patience and hummed from time to time to massage my body with calming vibrations.

Little by little my body started to light up. After about an hour, a beautiful hymn was hummed on the harmonica, which really touched me off and helped me connect. Every so often, I'd hear laughing, sobbing, vomiting, Tambo blessing those in need. Thin, snake shaped strings of dark green, yellow and purple lights started appearing in my closed eyes. The first wave was here. I looked at my watch, curious how long it took to arrive and instead of seeing the hands and numbers I saw a bien prity kaleidoscope pattern. The time, it is a gift, that's why it's called the present so forgitaboutit.

Then I started talking with grandma June, en francais, bien sur. "Bon soire, gran-mere, comment vas-tu ? Comment va gran-pere Rouge^(xi) ? Aime-t-il toujours votre cuisine ? Oui, d'acord, comment pas. Que c'est bien. Je-t'aime gran-mere. Je reconnais, je comprends..." and on it went ; I remembered more than I expected and it was pleasing.

I opened my eyes and looked around. I could see geometric shapes emanating from my vision. I looked over to the fire and saw the waves of heat coming out. It was a beautiful sight. The laughing, crying, vomiting and blessing continued to arise hear and there, mixed with long stretches of silence broken from time to time by strong winds and more beautiful songs being sung accompanied by guitarras y tambores y marracas. The musicians assembled were quite talented and it was quite the pleasure. Here's a sampling from Tambo : Ambihuasquita, America Anahuac, El Llamado Maternal, Punto de Partida, Semilla de Agua and Semilla de Bien and Kwichi^(xii) : Al Ritmo Del Amor, Del Amor, Estoy Con Dios, Todas Las Flores Son Para Ti.^(xiii) Como pueden oir, nada de la chombera.

After about another hour, Tambo offered another round. Everyone is trusted to take what they think they can handle, but I'm sure he'd cut someone off who was acting irresponsible. As far as I understand, it's not something like alcohol, so no one is going to overdose. I was second in line to take the second serving. Tambo asked if I was experienced, so I shared with him some of the details about my first time. I walked outside and sat under the stars by the fire for a little bit. Not too long though, because I knew the work that night was to be done with myself. So I went and wrapped back up in the cocoon and settled down. I sang some songs quietly to myself, Country Roads, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, What a Wonderful World, Ain't No Mountain High Enough. The visuals had receded a while and I started getting a little impatient. Then I realized, no son un derecho, pero un regalo y los pacientes buenos son paciente.

I hadn't come close to feeling the urge to vomit, but after a while needed to drop a deuce, which was a little surprising because I had been fasting since Wednesday, apart from a coupla strategic slices of JFW's sourdough, buttered and dipped in marinara sauce Thursday night. I was all prepared with flashlight and TP roll, but both Tambo and Diego were by the path to bathrooms with a flashlight to offer me just in case. I took care of business and went back to lie down.

I don't have the clearest recollection of all the thoughts and feelings that were bubbling up, but for the most part it was all good. Lots of laughs were had. For a while I was missing the harmonica as it had helped me connect so nicely earlier. I kept wondering when it was going to come back.

Should I ask for it ?

No, be patient.

What about now, it's been a while, should I ask for it now ?

Stop being so needy, stop being a derpy, dependent consumer. You have your own harmonica, be a good student and show with your actions it pleases you, be a producer, why don'tchya ?

Boy did I spin on that knowledge nugget a whiiile. El Vacaperro was lying next to me a good long while, scratching himself seemingly in rhythm with the scratching I was doing to itches in my own mind. Then, just as I was about to sit up and play, Tambo breaks his out and rips for, I don't know man, 10, 15 minutes. He ended it with, "acuestate, mamita." I don't recall it verbatim, but it was something to that effect. De repente, I had down pressure, but my mind was made up that I was going to play after I took the browns to the super bowl.

So I get up, put my shoes on, no time for flashlight, I can see fine anyways, no time for TP, there's plenty in the bathroom already. I make my way ten steps across the room, and as I'm about 2 meters from the path outside, I spew. There's no stopping it, my guts are emptied with dry heaves about a meter from where El Moro is lying down trying to enjoy his time. Once there's no more to upchuck, it occurs to me what I have to do. You see, I've learned from many smart people in my years, one of whom is Hannah Wiggins,^(xiv) who wrote the original article that bears this title and from whom I learn what to do next.

So there I was, on all fucking fours, licking my puke off the filthy concrete footing. I quickly realized it was pretty much the shape of a cock and balls.^(xv) So what did I do ? Kept licking like I lick cunt, of course, of course and was well on my way to eating it all. I ignored various waves of help and urges to stop, I knew what the fuck I was doing. It was an act of humility, of respect, of sacrifice, of getting dirty and nasty to learn about myself and push through hallucinated limits and grow. What's more disgusting, licking up some milliliters of my bodily fluids or allowing my traitorous doubts scare me from attempting to change for the better and cause me to lose what I oft might win by not trying ? Then Kwichi got down to my eye level. "Robinson, que estas haciendo ?!" "Guardando el jugo sagrado." She made a strong case to move on, so I took the advice. I'm there as a guest, a student, I'm not trying to piss off my hosts and teachers, that's a sure way to be pissed on down the line. Anyways, I had proved the point to myself. As I was moving on, the thought occurred, "I suppose I'm not a bitch after all".^(xvi)

Here's a shot of the aftermath at ground zero the next morning, above as below.

Kwichi helped me settle down, hydrate and clean up. El Moro shared some words of support which were much appreciated. One thing he said was, "you don't have to suffer anymore." I thought, maybe not in the way I had been that precipitated all that, but also remembered the words of wisdom her Ladyship, the Marquess Eulora, Diana Coman gifted me :

dorion: it struck me today how outrageous my behavior has been recently. I think back to where I was at here and ask what the everloving fuck has been wrong with me ?
diana_coman: dorion: eh, dragule, tu nu poti daca nu te chinui suficient
diana_coman: ah, I did it, didn't I
dorion: diana_coman, mai multa lupta atunci
diana_coman: dorion: ha! but yes, that's quite you indeed :)
dorion: glad to read :)

So I went to the bathroom, but it turns out the browns lost their ticket to the super bowl and I felt like a two ton gorilla had been lifted off my back. So I walked out smiling with harmonica in hand. It was dawn by now and pretty pretty. So, I took my time warming her up and played Ode to Joy. I felt like a freshly hatched mariposa.^(xvii)

Then I saw Tambo and Kwichi and Geicko lounging on the grassy bank on the side of the fire, so I walked over and joined them. I was greeted with "He's just a baby !" by Kwichi. I sat down on my knees in front of them. They asked me how I was, to which I replied radiantly. Tambo assured me there was no problem in principle with what I was doing, but I was guided to move because I was blocking up a muse^(xviii) and it was inconsiderate of my fellow travelers,^(xix) ; plus, there's plenty of yagecito. He laughed at the observation that I was enjoying it. We all chatted for a while, Tambo shared he's done ceremonies at ancient ruins in El Salvador, I shared I had visited Chichen Itza as a boy. They asked where I was from and I told'em about the Green Mountains of Vermont y como parecen que se convierten en fuego en el otonyo, like the Grateful Dead song, which we all agreed is always nice when played following Scarlet Begonias. Then Geicko gave me a little harmonica lesson, which I very much appreciated.

I worked on drafting this article a while, trying to capture as much as I could about the action packed evening. Then gathered around and shared our experiences, it was quite nice. I laid down to listen to the last part, but ended up dozing off and missed the group picture, but was awoken by the group applause. Too bad. La familia^(xx) :

I tried to get some rest and people were packing up, but made sure to tell some, "nos vemos prontito". I showed Tambo one of my silver quarters, showed him the difference between the precious and the base, and gave it to him as a token of my appreciation. It was somewhat of a lazy day, but I didn't get much rest. Only about 8 or 9 of us were staying I maintained my fast. Thais told me I looked several years younger than she remembered me evening prior. We chatted, played music. Geicko showed me how to strum the Do, Mi and La chords on his guitar. I showed El Moro Raul Midon's Sunshine. Geicko had a deck of Tarot cards and he had us draw, so I played along, dug for the deepest card buried in the fanned out deck and drew card number zero, the fool. He tells me it's a powerful card because it means I'm not afraid to make a fool of myself, immune to embarrassment and therefore can fail forward and grow. Word, that's something I can rep.

Diego, El Moro and I went to la iglesia which means to hike up the hillside and gather logs for the night ahead. It was a nice little hike, shamefully I didn't bring my camera. There was a beautiful white stallion grazing on the steep slope. We had a beautiful view sobre la Bahia de Chame. Diego found a little bowl carved into a stone and chiseled it free with another rock. These people have a strong connection with rocks, which I can related to since I grew up in the marble capital of the Americas, Rutland, Vermont, which is in the same county as Vermont's Slate Valley and my maternal roots are in coal rich, Franklin County, Illinois. We tossed and dragged our logs down the hill, back to base as the golden hour was fading to dusk. Shortly after returning, Robin arrived. He's the red headed, blue eyed chap from down under who told me about these ceremonies. My father and grandfather were both red headed, I suppose Robin is my ayahuasca father.

Mi intencion para la ceremonia era, "experimentar a mi essencia y amor" y mi super poder era "actuar con coraje en frente de la verguenza". It was a bit colder than the prior evening. I put on sweat pants over my khakis and added a bath towel to the layers of my cocoon. I allowed myself more visual stimuli this time around. The resistance I was feeling was joining the party and socializing more. You can't have an identity by manaloning and you can't love either. The excuse the weaker, sick self was fielding was being too cold, which was clearly a cop out. The resistance manifested as down pressure, so I went to the bathroom to discharge that and on walking back I realized I'll just wrap myself in my blanket by the fire. Duh.

So I went out and sat by the fire with the peeps enjoying the music, the stars, the warmth of the hearth. After a bit, I moved over to the grassy bank ten meters west of the fire to lie down on my blanket. It felt great to hug the earth and look up at Orion overhead. I had a nice conversation with myself. I encouraged myself to explore and articulate what the people closest to me mean to me, to make it clear for myself and to prepare myself to share it with them. Tambo was nearby and I called him over to thank him for everything, he thanked me and offered me more yagecito. I held back for the time being.

Then Ricardo was nearby so I called him over. He was one of the helpers and his superpower for the night era observacion. We started chatting about philosophy and the nature of things. He's a 25 year old who looks like he could be anywhere between 18 and 40, simultaneously wise and young. I asked him what he thinks the most strategic property to hold in the next couple of decades will be. His answer was water. I told him I think it's Bitcoin because of the economics of enforcing ownership. Then he started asking me about my story, what's a guy from Vermont doing in Panama the past 10 years ? It turns out, his artistic name is Ricardo Vermont as Vermont is a combination of his family names.^(xxi) I gave him a summary of the simple steps I have taken to get here. Meeting Erik Voorhees in NY Bagel Cafe en Plaza de Einstein, realizing Euro Pacific Bank was a bezzle and that Erik understood money better than Peter Schiff. Meeting Jacob at philosophy meetup I organized at what's now known as Noa and forming a freneship. Partnering with Justin Mabanta to develop a brokerage company after Verdmont wound down and bringing Jacob on board to form what is now just me and Jacob in JWRD Computing. Our conversation was put on the back burner as someone nearby started upchucking and we went over to help.

Then, I went on to mingle some more and took a second dose of the medicine. Maribeth was having a wonderful evening full of joy, in stark contrast to the the night before which was full of tears. Kwichi was vibing by the fire and I went and sat at her feet to soak up the sight and sounds. After a while, I felt that I had something to share. I wanted to share a poem, by the name of 2nd quarter free throws by KRS-One because I thought it would resonate with the theme of the evening : discipline, education, intelligence, hard work, creativity, community, evolution. I know the poem/song pretty well, but I wanted to make sure my delivery was on point so I went to fetch my pen and dead tree notebook. By then, Tambo was playing guitar and singing behind his table so I went and sat next to him in a chair with a cloud-like pillow that Ricardo had strategically placed. It was dark, so I put my flashlight in my mouth and started writing. The medicine was starting to do its trick so I really had to focus. I felt the lyrics in the songs to be one step ahead of me, shining a light towards the next move and helping me maintain my presense.

However, I was struggling to remember the KRS-One lyrics exactly, so I decided to go for a little stroll down the hill to buy myself some solitude. Twilight was just dawning so visibility was good. As I was walking away from the gathering, I got this idea that I'd go find a spot in the jungle and write it out in the nude, bearing my soul. I was already barefoot and I dropped my sweatpants by one of the benches. As I was walking, I was reciting the poem, but I kept falling short of finishing it. At the edge of the woods, I peeled off my sweaters. I'll leave a trail of clothes for myself was the idea. It felt great to walk in the woods. I felt like I was hunting^(xxii) on the steep banks of Benson's glens. I took my time and surveyed my path forward as I well know how. A couple yards down the bank I stripped off my tshirt and a couple steps later my necklaces.^(xxiii) As I continued my descent down the hill I turned a bend in the bank and dropped my khakis. Now, I'm in my blood red boxers alone and feeling quite free. The entire time, I'm looking for a nice rock to sit on and I'm trying to sing the song in full, but continue failing to finish it. I can hear Tambo continuing to jam in the distance. As I'm walking, my left foot slips and I start to take a tumble. Fortunately, I'm pretty skilled at falling down safely, I skid probably 2 meters down the hill and land on my stomach with my head uphill. It feels good to hug mother earth again I say with a laugh.

I rest a minute, I feel like burying myself under the leaves like I did so many times in the autumns as a boy, raking a pile of leafs just to jump in. I think, maybe it'd be a good way to die someday, walk out into the forest on your property, leave a trail of clothes, dig myself a hole, take a dirt nap and return myself to the maker. Not today though. Eh, fuck that noise, better to die fighting your enemies, hostis humani generis. And you know what, I'm breaking the rules here. Yes, I know how capable I am of navigating woods, I know how present I feel. But to my hosts, I'm a stranger that they take responsibility for. They certainly don't know I've walked through more treacherous woods with a loaded shoulder cannon in my hands since before I had hair in my pits. So get back to where they can see you before you worry them.^(xxiv) So I did just that, followed my clothes trail and suited back up. Continuing to practice the poem, but continuing to fail.

Now I started to get frustrated. I had been trying everything I could think of, I wrote next to the Chaman, I spoke, I walked, I sat, I relaxed, I tightened the anaconda,^(xxv) I slowed down, I sped up, I tried pouring myself into the medium, further fail. Then, "pretend it's Raider Rob", I said, "sitting in a timeout huddle delivering the message to your homies". No dice. I drew on the stored energy of past victories and accomplishments, I drew on the time, energy, attention, words of wisdom and encouragement from friends. I simply could not fucking complete it. Edwin saw me from afar and asked if I was okay, to which I said I was. Now the sun was getting higher and higher. It was no longer the second quarter, but the final ticks of the fourth. I started to panic a little and contemplate the possibility of loss. I started to feel the fatigue of Sunday morning and not sleeping since Thursday evening. Both of which I fought back against several times. "You don't think Caesar was tired at Alesia or Munda !?! Winner's win, so win then !!"

Then Diego paid me a visit, asking me how I was, to which I replied, "not very good". I told him what was up and tried reciting for him. Every time I failed, he kept coming with another wave of advice and encouragement. I kept banging my head against the proverbial brick wall. Diego's English is fairly solid, but he's still learning. He suggested I try in Spanish so he could understand better, which I tried, but failed even worse since I couldn't recall in English in the first place. He called Senyor Vermont over who is fluent. I gave it a few more goes and got pretty fucking far too, but never managed to finish it off. By now I was getting pretty down on myself. Which was compounded because I felt I was letting these people down too, being a pure, pathetic consumer rather than a producer and wasting the time, energy, attention and wisdom they were so graciously offering me. They want to see efficacy from their efforts and I was manifesting the poverty the poem is encouraging to transcend, choking.^(xxvi)

Time was up,^(xxvii) I had to accept the lost opportunity, mark for dead the version of me who thought he could deliver that fine April morning. Neither are coming back ; time and money flow one way, they're over, gone, buried in time. The energy allocated had to be liquidated and I had to move on to reconciling my other debts. From starting the night so high, I was hitting rock bottom. Then, I recalled my intention for the evening, experimentar a mi esencia y amor and my super power, actuar con coraje en frente de la verguenza. Well, I certainly felt embarrassed, bien tonto mis frenes, so I took the next step towards owning it. TO-EC-DH. I also remembered to breathe and relax a bit given my tendency toward beating myself black and blue.

I had changed from the experience. The sting of pretending I was prepared when I wasn't, thinking I knew when I didn't, will be with me until I work^(xxviii) it out by writing, speaking, practicing, delivering, re-reading, refining and trying again. It's not about that poem, but the principle. It won't be the last pain I feel or the last loss I record. A lot more are coming, all I can control is the extent to which I systematize my approach to improve my odds the words I speak are consistent with reality which is the way to win in life. Learn the lessons worth learning and share the value accumulated to express who I am, hour by hour, day by day, week by week, month by month, quarter by quarter, year by year, decade by decade, score by score, need I say more ? The question was to finish the rhyme, on I forge.

Ok, so I learned that song isn't tattooed on my heart, so be it. If I want it in the future, I'll have to practice, just like with everything else I want to manifest. Plus, it's not the first time I've lost and bounced back. Throughout my life I've had to learn the lessons from the cycle of loss, recollection and rebuilding. I've lost and won championship games. I've missed the last shot and been the most valuable player. The individual instances of the games carry the lessons of the meta-game that life is. The challenge is, are you a good enough player to reflect and learn and reorganize and double down and come back again with more skin in the game until Father Time strikes his clocks on your final hour and Mother Nature's entropy defends her undefeated record in turning human flesh to dust.

Some trees are native to the tropics, where it's always warm and there's always money in the banana stand. Other trees, like the maple, grow closer to the north pole, where sunlight becomes scarcer everyday between summer and winter solstice. Where the temperature steadily drops until the chlorophyll dies in all the leaves and the mountains appear to be on fire. Where the cold autumn wind and rain and snow follows to fall and extinguish the fire on the mountains knocking all the leaves off the hard and softwood trees and turn the mountains to their cool winter purple. Where the ground starts to freeze and the sap must retreat to its roots below the frost to survive until the sun rises again and the sap may return to replenish the Sugarman's stores of the sweet syrup and spring spring's beautiful buds that will grow into summer's shady leaves yet again. Learning how to recover from loss is part of learning how to win.

I gave the Ace-Two domino to Tambo because while it was meaningful to me, it's not mine to take from the property. I gathered Diego, Ricardo, Kwichi, Geicko, El Moro and Edwin around before leaving and told them I was tipping them all silver quarters as a token of my appreciation for their support, patience, guidance and friendship. I only had one on me so I gave it to Diego since he had been through a lot with me that morning and I wrote a check with my mouth and eye contact to the others that I'd get it to them when we returned to the city. Siempre ten cuidado que no se lo gasta en un chinito.

La Familia above. Andres, Kwichi and Thays below.

Senyor Vermont above, the Green Mountain Man below.

Here's where the payoff really comes though. Upon reflection and writing the last couple days, it seems there could be a part of me that knew the poem I was to share wouldn't be received as effectively as I felt it would. I mean, what are the odds a group gathered in 2023 in Central America are going to have the cultural context to vibe^(xxix) with the 1995 New York City hip hop underground ? It's a terse, tense, aggressive, intellectual message straight from the artists' heart, but coming from my mouth, how would it have landed on the ears of the English as a second language listeners ? How would my body language and tone of voice have contrasted with the others' delivering their music that night ? Especially after all the fail, I was more tense then a freshly tuned snare drum. Perhaps in actually manifesting the ability to share I'd have made a bigger fool of myself and undermined the experience of my fellow travelers. It seems like my heart knew what my mind didn't, that strategic retreat was the move, like Caesar at Dyrrachium. Holy shit, how's that for a mind blowing revelation and context switch ? How's that for humility of the ego and manifesting patience ? How's that for the heart teaching the mind a tough, loving lesson ? How's that for the value of reporting ? Right on brother, tienes razon manito. </p>

I can see why my mind wanted to share that message too, it's masculine as fuck. It was my mind rebelling against a primary message of the ceremony being about how love is all that matters that violence can be eliminated and we're all equal and one, which is quite the feminine message. I get that we're all equal in that everyone's physical body reaches an expiration date and turns to dust and that love goes a long way. That being said, people live as individuals and individuals are not fungible. Sure we cooperate amongst each other and it's what makes our species so powerful, but there is always a hierarchy and the richer the culture, the steeper the hierarchy. Love is good and all, but there is a time for hate too, if you can afford it. "You might not be interested in war, but war is interested in you." The feminine has its place and I don't intend to live without females, but the masculine is vital, we're a sexuate species after all. Patriarchy is traditional with cause : it's functional and the burden is boundless.

While I'm very pleased with what I learned this weekend, how my heart opened and what I've learned in applying the lessons and writing this out, the last thing I'm going to do is renounce my mind and my masculinity.^(xxx) They're too valuable, at least to me and to the growth of my long standing, high value relationships that are vital to expressing the best version of myself. The lesson I come back to then is, if I'm secure enough in my beliefs, I don't need everyone else to see what I see. Sure, it's nice when other's see the world similar to me and is a basis of friendship and love, but given the work I've put in, by definition those relationships are going to be few ; highly valuable, but few. That simply goes with the territory in life on the tail, the further you are from the mean. I have to remember that I'm not going to these ceremonies to change the minds of others, I'm going to change myself. To integrate my heart and mind into a stronger union by teaching them how to trust each other at a deeper level. If I meet others interested in what I have to say and share, great, but this is simply the cherry on the cake, can take it or leave it. I must remember to focus on baking myself a better cake, that's all I can control anyways. The cake's always eaten in the temporal.

The experience was quite meaningful. I've managed to have a great many of those in my life, the vast majority of which have been delivered through the written word by people I've yet to meet or will never meet in the flesh, but as this article demonstrates, occupy substantial real estate in my mind. The meaningful times with them traveled through my mind to touch my heart. This one traveled through my heart and touched my mind. I think there's a place for both, apocatastasis can work from above and below. In any case though, what matters most is what I do with the experiences as I move forward, vanitas vanitatum omnia vanitas and all that. It's only medicine and healing and culture if you put in the work to integrate and manifest what you learn afterwards ; if you're just going to get high, it's simply escapism and you undermine the medicine's reputation and potential for everyone else.

In closing for now, it has been said that I have my share of smarts, but still much stupidity embedded in me from the other world. I'll be back to learn from what communion with Yage has to teach me, build with the people I met and am to meet. Making yourself vulnerable isn't easy, but it is simple and essential for growth, entonces, vale la pena. Ofi.

Aho !!!

P.S. Despite no sleep for two nights over the weekend, I've experienced absolutely no crash, which is unfuckingbelievable to me. I took a ~3 hour nap upon returning to The Crab, woke up and wrote a while, parkee^(xxxi) con frenes charlando sobre la experiencia, wrote some more until midnight. I was wide awake at 3am continuing to write while I lie there for about 5 minutes until I rose and discharged the words at my desk for 105 minutes, went back to lie down and close my eyes, didn't really sleep though. Worked out, worked all day till about midnight. Was wide awake at 5am the next morning, worked out, worked all day till midnight yet again, woke up at 5am this morning, worked out, worked all day. I'm not sure if a crash is coming, but doesn't feel like it.

Oh, oh, sometimes, I get a good feelin', yeah ; get a feelin' that I never, never, never had before, oh no...

P.P.S. This article sets many Dorion Mode records, from word count of 7729 across 6 languages and prit near 30 internal references and probably some more records too that I a) haven't thought of or b) am too lazy to count at present.

1. He looks like a cow, see for yourself.

   

   

   Everyone was calling him El Vaca, I nicknamed him Vacaperro after Casa Bruja's Chivoperro brew. He reminded me a lot of the dog I met in St. Vincent, Itchy. Anyways, he's a regular attendee and has a knack for providing company to fellow travelers when they need it the most. [^]

2. Who says his heritage is Seminole. [^]
3. It's pronounced very close to Jacob, with a very soft b. [^]
4. He seems to keep'em warm though, buddy is practicing un bucoton.*

   ___ ___
   * bucoton is jerga panamenya. Buco is how beaucoup is written here, the suffix ton adds emphasis, like monton. This won't be the last time you read jerga panamenya here ; for foreigners, here's a helpful resource. [^]

5. It ~always sets at 6, but that line is a nod to Brad Paisley's Mud on the Tires. [^]
6. Tambo, the Shaman, studied under Taita* Richard Chasoy del pueblo Inga de Puntamayo de Colombia.

   ___ ___
   *Taita means father. [^]

7. Her given name is the gens of the noblest patrician house from Roman Republic and Empire, which is left as an exercise for the alert reader. [^]
8. I typically write Spanish in ASCII, use transliteration and eschew accents, but made the exception here for reasons which are likely obvious. Don't expect accents in general moving forward, if you read Spanish, you'll take my meaning from the context without needing them. Also the n with the ~ hat is written "ny" since that's how it's pronounced. [^]
9. The ancestral plants are : yage, peyote hikuri, San Pedro wachuma, tobacco, marijuana and cacao. Tobacco and Yage were the only ones being consumed here. Rape', cigars and cigarettes (all hand rolled/artesenal) were plentiful. [^]
10. The rules are simple : you're not allowed to leave the site until the ceremony closes the next morning so as to keep yourself and others from danger ; keep your clothes on ; if you're using the toilets, mind the time you're in there and don't monopolize it preventing other travelers from its use ; stay close to the site, don't go wandering the property as the terrain is rugged and livestock spookable. If you feel the urge to vomit, the best practice is to find a tree nearby. [^]
11. He was a ginger and that's what we called him. [^]
12. As it turns out, there's a famous scenic site where I'm from called the Quechee Gorge which has been cut over the years by the Ottauquechee River which springs from Killington, aka The Beast of the East, empties into the Connecticut River and makes its way to the Long Island Sound, here :

    

    Above as below.

    

    It's fun to see if you have the breath to yell out its name the entire time you're riding over the bridge, "QUEEEEEECHHHHEEEEEEE GGGGOOOOORRRGGGEEEE" ;-D [^]

13. I'm not sure if these are the official names, but they're the ones that made sense to me while listening to them. [^]
14. If you've done any reading with regard to Bitcoin worth the mention, you know the name, her Ladyship the Lady Falconeer, Hannah Wiggins --aka hanbot, aka MPOE-PR, aka the manticore-- and managed to rate her key too, before that window to the other side closed. Ever read So you think you're going to start a Bitcoin business, right? or Personal responsibility and the Ponzi scam or In re Bitcoin Devs are idiots or Personal responsibility and inept Bitcoin jesusing or or or. No ? Well, get to it yesterday then ! Because her words are worth more than all the bois with pretense to manhood in Bitcoin's history. Multsulmesc Doamna. [^]
15. There is an old proverb I learned from Fitz, my college hitting coach, "Hitting one home run doesn't make you a home run hitter, but if you suck one cock, you'll be a cocksucker for life". I don't reckon this is the type of cock that's meant though, but if this makes me a cocksucker, so be it. [^]

16. Life is a movie, you pick your own role,
    you climb your own ladder or you dig your own hole.
    Sittin' round cryin' ? That's like sittin' round dyin'.
    You want to touch the sky ? Boy, you figure out flyin'.

    How high ?
    So high that I can tough the sky.
    How sick ?
    So sick that I can fuck yo' bitch.
    Nigga, please.
    My squad stack plenty of G's,
    so if your girl wanna smoke, we got plenty of trees.

    [^]

17. Which happens to be my favorite swimming stroke, what's yours ? [^]
18. He didn't use that word, artistic license, beotch. [^]
19. El tranque siempre es una problema en Panama ;-p [^]
20. It's very much a family vibe. Everyone was very nice and welcoming and curious. There are some dedicated helpers, but people don't hesitate to help when they see someone in need of it. [^]
21. I couldn't make this shit up if I wanted to, y'know ? [^]
22. It hurts quite a bit to not have the fabled hunting article to link here, as it fucking well should. [^]
23. I was wearing a Macadamia nut necklace I got in Hawai'i and bamboo and and seashell necklaces I got in the Bahamas, all three of which were on cruises with my other Grandmother, Pamela. So I had connections to both my grandmothers covered. [^]
24. A motto of mine is, it's okay to get in trouble, just make sure you don't get caught. And just cause I didn't get caught, dear reader, doesn't mean you won't. So stay close and follow the rules, as I sure will the next times. [^]
25. It's one of the spirit animals they reference and he was singing a song about it in those moments too. I felt like he was singing directly to me. [^]

26. His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy
    There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti
    He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready
    To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgetting
    What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud
    He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out
    He's choking, how? Everybody's joking now...

    [^]

27. The clock's run out, time's up, over, blaow
    Snap back to reality, ope there goes gravity, ope
    There goes Rabbit, he choked, he's so mad but he won't
    Give up that easy, no, he won't have it, he knows
    His whole back's to these ropes, it don't matter, he's dope
    He knows that but he's broke, he's so stagnant, he knows
    When he goes back to this mobile home, that's when it's
    Back to the lab again, yo, this old rhapsody
    Better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him, and...

    [^]

28. You better lose yourself in the music
    The moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go)
    You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
    This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo
    You better lose yourself in the music
    The moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go)
    You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow
    This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo
    You better...

    [^]

29. The songs I was singing to myself the night before were a much, much, much better fit on many levels. [^]
30. I don't mean to imply such was suggested. It's more likely an incorrect inference my mind fielded as a defense mechanism to resist the integration. This is me thinking through that. [^]
31. 'Tis the first person preterit of parkear, is it not ? [^]