Hot as all get out in Portland in the 100F levels… ack.
A big congratulation to Diane Darling for her SheShamans Conference held this weekend in Geyserville California. I hear it was a success and went well surmounting all the challenges of launching a new project.
Diane Darling has been at the center of the Maelstrom of change and evolution in Northern California for quite awhile, often working quietly in the background, subverting the Post Dominant Paradigm with Acts of Intelligence, Beauty, and Love.
A big kiss out to her and all those who pulled this conference off! Good one Diane.
This edition deals mainly with Ska Pastora, or as some know her, Salvia Divinorum. She is a wily, wild one always willing to drop you into the deep abyss, and carry on a dialog as well…
This edition is dedicated to my Girls out in the garden. I promise to spritz you in the morning and afternoon, really I do.
Have a Wonderful Monday,
On The Menu:
On The Soul – Plato
Excerpt: Psychedelics Are The Grease On The Wheels Of Eternity…. (Gwyllm)
Ska Pastora -Poems in Her Honour…
A group poetry effort from the Earth Rites Community.
All Art: Luke Brown….
“Since, then, the soul is immortal and has been born many times, since it has seen all things both in this world and in the other, there is nothing it has not learnt. No wonder, then, that it is able to recall to mind goodness and other things, for it knew them beforehand. For, as all reality is akin and the soul has learnt all things, there is nothing to prevent a man who has recalled or, as people say, learnt’ only one thing from discovering all the rest for himself, if he will pursue the search with unwearying resolution. For on this showing all inquiry or learning is nothing but recollection.”
Anamnesis (Greek) [from ana back again + mimnesco remember] Recollection; used by Plato in his theory of knowledge. He taught that the human elements of consciousness sprang from seeds of inherent knowledge in the soul, present in the mind as the result of past experiences of the egoic center or reincarnating ego. Thus the acquisition of knowledge is a process of reminiscence or recollection of former experiences.
Candidate for Psychedelic Therapy…
Psychedelics Are The Grease On The Wheels Of Eternity…. (Gwyllm)
Psychedelics are the grease on the wheels of eternity, facilitating the move from form to form, by bringing all into a certain mindfulness.
These sacred substances, like us, are made up of light, flowing endlessly through all that is. They partake of the eternal, crystallized elements that refract and reflect the glory of beingness.
Psychedelics are devices that trigger the memory of what our true bodies are: vessels of eternity that we delight in if we allow flow to happen. These devices are not blind blundering mechanics, but discreet, intelligent agents, that can tune and manipulate aspects of our spirits and corporeal selves for our betterment.
Ska Pastora -Poems in Her Honour…
A group poetry effort from the Earth Rites Community. We hope you enjoy!
WANTON DESIRE – Will Penna
INTRODUCTION: This is a piece I’ve already shared with several folks who were with me at the 1999 Breitenbush Salvia conference, some of whom also shared the session the poem refers to. The piece came to me spontaneously when I returned to my cabin after a session in the sanctuary in which we shared Sage Goddess Emerald Essence. I did not ‘craft’ it; it came to me into my journal as you read it now in one fell swoop or even more as one ‘swell foop.’
Our group had started out as just six of us butas these things go inexplicably and inextricablygrew to a dozen. Also, I approached the invitation to join with my two inner voices in conflict; and rather
than follow my usual dictum, ‘when in doubt, don’t,’ I went ahead. One voice, my lefthand dark guardian Azazel, said: ‘do it, Will; you’ve spent all your money here so you won’t have a chance to sample it otherwise until a couple weeks after you return home and send to Daniel for it!’ The other voice, Lee my righthand angel of light, said: ‘you will know when it is best for you to partake; it is not now, in this strange place among strangers, even with these friendly strangers!’
We formed our circle, introduced ourselves, stating how strong a dose we would take and sharing our intentions. I had decided on 3 undiluted droppersful, a moderate dose; some were going to have one or two dropper loads, many were going to dilute the liquidabout as strong as everclearwith hot water. Most people stated a respectful and respectable intention; I perhaps foolishly thought mine equally
appropriate: ‘you have shown me, Ska Pastora, what you have to show on other occasions when
I have chewed or smoked you; show me now your power in this form.’ Then, when we were passing the bottle and dropper, on the third round a bit dribbled down my lip, so I decided to squirt a fourth load in,
not consciously realizing that this would nudge my dose into the strong category.
We had decided to douse the lights when we were done with the circle work. As you will see below, I was unprepared for the suddenness and strength of the trip I was now on. But then, like some other intrepid psychedelic explorers, let alone the sorcerer’s apprentice, I have at other times over the past 35 years or so found myself beyond the M.C. Escher beyond as I begin the entheogenic beguine.
WANTON DESIRE – Will Penna
she will not suffer fools
i knew that
waiting at her gate
it was not my time
but wanton desire beckoned
so i let myself be blinded
even though the snow was melting
so it wasn’t that
even though the circle was imperfect
but it wasn’t that
even though i’d heard no call
so it was that
so when i communed with her
in that refuge from the snow
darkness descended before i knew it
walls folded impossibly outwardly in
escaping voices twisted away
i lay alone in the desacrated temple
its heaving walls an unfunhouse ride
she would not suffer fools
i reached up to broken shards
then down to a vagrant pillow
broken slants of light
more distant muffled sighs
all was riven now
perhaps never whole
i knew not how i’d come
to this crazy house
i must go out
if there were an out
rolling over i found a wall
then the broken sharp things again
thensomehow not surprisingly
a berber carpet under me
i rolled some more
hands fumbled on an edge
i dragged my belly my knees
came almost head over heals
(head over heals?)
boarding down the stairs
arms and legs my wheels
but she stopped me
no, not SHE, but just she
and asked me where i was going
‘oh, someone’s here!’
i crawled back in the dark
back into the broken temple
less broken now
but no less desacralized
‘ouch! you’re stepping on me!’
the stepping stopped
sorry! came a distant sigh
as light and sanity blinked on
we all held our breath for both
i glimpsed the menacing shards
merely seashells along the wall
we gradually told our stories
those who desired
lawnmower man his
green goddess lady hers
one had disappeared
another stayed grimly silent
a hand over his face
we chatted we laughed we humans
but it was never right
foolish wanton deed
but it was donegood to go
Salvia – Victoria
May as well leave your gentle white faced god asleep at home,
Your green loving goddess snoozing in a tree.
Come naked, come empty.
If you’re looking for something more cosy,
a soft kiss is perhap more advisable.
We’re gonna shake your hand, and forget to let go for a while.
We’re gonna whisper sweet everything’s in your ear.
And scour you down at the gate…all the way down to your secrets.
Sometimes the leaves can get a bit thorny you know.
This won’t hurt a bit.
YOU ALIEN, YOU REDUCED DRAGON.
We’re gonna blow you up like a balloon, but that is what you asked for.
My brain shifts uncomfortably in it’s chair.
It knows it has to go.
It stomps out of the room,
Ha, they laugh, I wonder if it will come crawling back this time?
Sure, I mutter, it has an old habit of creating itself.
So, poised, I seek the fine ritual magick,
only to end up sprawled inelegantly, grinning.
Being whispered away by a dream called reality.
What was so funny? I don’t think I remember.
It was rare and elemental, words don’t suffice.
Salvia Odyssey – Sage Student
A small bitter ball of midnight-black wax,
Smelling of tea, and time’s passing,
And fey sorcery.
Lights out. I lie down in bed.
It’s like getting ready for sleep
Yet beside me are a bowl and towel.
I chew the wax.
A little something
Sparkles in the darkness.
The wax is dissolving,
The universe is fragmenting.
Into green patterns.
No joy. No fear.
Become the still point.
Lash myself to the mast
Hold breath to increase effect.
And fractal lights bloom.
My name is legion.
A bar in Dublin, near the water.
No and Yes.
A pioneer wagon
crossing the icy Missouri.
Become not one person.
But a family amid
Cold brown in-pouring waters.
Dying consciousness falls
Into an infolding green flower.
Petals closing inwards.
Falling into a black hole.
Within whose event horizon
Is neither death, nor time.
Losing self who becomes the universe?
Dying was nothing at all.
Death is being everything.
A need to spit. Spitting
Wiping a mouth with a towel
I feel a face pushing into a bowl.
I feel a bowl pushing into a face.
I have a face! A face!
The Zen master asked
What was your original face
before you were conceived?
the koan makes sense.
All has always been.
Out of a cooling magma,
One crystal choosing to be me.
I know my name.
Jump out of bed.
Get into the hot tub,
Soaking up heat.
Soaking up life.
Is that Argus barking?
No! It’s real.
My dogs are barking.
I give them dog biscuits.
Salvia divinorum Anagram Poem Sage Student
Vivid Mana roil us,
Livid savior man?
Avoid rival. I’m Sun!
Amoral vivid in us?
A moral vivid in us,
Survival an idiom.
Vivid airman soul,
Mad via lion virus,
Land via ovum iris.
Visual or via mind?
In so vivid a mural,
I’m no survival aid.
Salvia – Tomas
I’ve been twirled
I’ve been spun
And stretched just
like human gum
Pulled through a gossamer vale
extruded like six penny nails
watched it twirling through a hole
in a wall and then I saw
these floating balls
nothing left, not even space
until I looked around the place
and suddenly it all appeared
where it all went was never clear….
I am a node – Gwyllm
I am a node on a multinodal plant,
that dreams it is a part of
something called humanity…
I dream of dreamers dreaming dreams…
Thought dancing as waves of light,
molecules hallucinating solid states…
The illusion is full
and never abates….
I am a node on multinodal chain…