I have just returned from a week at Afrikaburn, the largest regional Burn (affiliated to Burning Man), held in the arid lands of the Karoo. The cactus has begun to flow into my life since I germinated my first seeds a little over one year ago and I had decided that the Burn would be the ideal time for my first cactus experience. I prepared approximately 50cm of thick Trichocereus peruvianus using House's Trichocereus Tea tek on the day before my departure.
Fast forward 4 days...
I venture out into the desert, away from the buzz of activity taking place in the tented camps that have risen slowly from the dust during the preceding days. Honey mesquite trees, invasive to this land, line dry river beds and form the largest trees in the area. I sit beside one such tree, thanking it for providing respite from the midday sun, before laying out my ceremonial items, cleansing the space, and drinking the tea. I had heard of the vile taste but could not have been completely prepared. With one gulp at a time I took the medicine into my body, feeling the saltiness grow with each wash of the goo over my lips. Having managed to drink 4/5 of the brew, I returned to the familiarity of my camp and friends - happy to pass the time to activation in the loving glow of friends and family.
The come on was very gentle and noticeable as a slowly swelling nausea, not at all immobilising yet beckoning me to remain still and avoid talking. After some time I felt compelled to walk back out into the desert where I purged myself of the tea. Another 30 minutes passed before I threw up again. The purge came easily and I felt very calm throughout. Looking around at the succulents and shrubs, I began to hum - gifted with a chant which would become my traveling mantra throughout the majority of the experience. Before the first purge, while sitting on the dusty and rocky ground, I had spotted and picked up a sharp stone which resembled a chunky arrowhead. I carried this stone with me after the purge as I moved through the ring of theme camps and out into the centre of the festival - a circle several hundred meters in diameter that hosts a myriad of artworks and sculptures, some up to 30 meters tall. The ground was my primary focus of awareness and I walked very slowly, very deliberately, chanting my sacred tones. I noticed patterns of protruding rock on the ground where sharp swirls of layered stone had emerged due to the erosion around them. The beauty and extreme age of the geologic formations struck me as my entire vibrational state began to slow. I experienced very few thoughts during this time, merely chanting, walking, and appreciating the stones and crystals beneath my feet.
Aware of the harsh sun above me, I sat in the shade of a giant wicker artwork composed of four large 'nests' on stilts. The structures had been erected before last year's Burn and I smiled as a single bird landed on one of the nests and began to sing. The desert becomes a flurry of activity during the few weeks preceding and following the Burn, yet for the rest of the year there is an arid frugality to the land and creatures who dwell there. I felt privileged to witness the bird and briefly share the space where it lives. I felt as if I could really feel the consciousness of the cactus - clouds, birds, people - all moved quickly around my serene field of quiet being. Not too long ago, I read here on the Nexus that taking in a plant teacher creates a sort of marriage of consciousness between that of yourself and the plant - a recalibration of the morphic field of experienced consciousness. This idea resonated with me under the effects of the cactus. I thought of my family and distant ancestors, thanking them for the unbroken thread of life that has created the platform for my experience on this earth.
After a few hours of shaded observation, I returned to my camp. Not long after I had arrived, a familiar voice greeted me while I rummaged through my tent. I looked up and met the radiant eyes and glowing face of a plant-teacher friend, one whom I have only met in the last 6 months yet who has already had a major impact on my life. I kissed her and she held me. I told her I was experiencing the cactus tea and thanked her for helping me with the tea preparation. She responded that she hadn't helped at all and smiled at me. I agreed with a chuckle but added that her presence during the process had helped greatly. She invited me back to her tent where I met a beautiful man, most certainly a member of my shamanic star family, and enjoyed a sacred tobacco ceremony with paulo santo smudge before being gifted a bundle of khat leaves. I had never before tried khat and was told with a smile that I would be the guinea pig for the mescaline/khat combination. I felt blissful and serene and often chuckled at the antics of my gorgeous companions while slowly chewing the leaves. An interesting effect from the khat was a feeling of vasoconstriction in my arms and fingers. It began as a faint buzzing and quickly grew to the point where I was unable to open the clenched fingers of my left hand. I observed and shared these effects, drinking water and reducing my rate of khat chewing until they had subsided. It's difficult to know how much of a stimulant action I felt as a result of the khat.
After several hours of relaxing in the shade, I stood up to move to a more comfortable position in a camping chair. I could feel tension in my neck muscles and began to massage them with the tips of my fingers. A woman who had joined us a while earlier asked me if I would like a massage. I accepted without hesitation. Wow - what a feeling! She worked with expert precision and delicacy, asking if I had been carrying heavy loads (those of the physical or energetic kind). I said I had, for many years, and shared that I had developed a beautiful massage practice with my ex-girlfriend but had hardly experienced massage at all since our break-up two and a half years ago. The massage left me completely relaxed and at ease. After some time I shared dinner with them, a beautiful raw, vegetarian wrap, followed by a nutella and roasted seed pancake (crepe for the American Nexians). I thanked them for their generosity and company before heading back to my camp and preparing for the evening, during which I connected with another glorious human being who gifted me my first piece of amethyst and paulo santo.
Sleep did not come easy until a couple hours before sunrise, yet I lay in my sleeping bag and calmly enjoyed the sounds of desert parties all around me.
I feel so grateful and happy that I was able to have my first cactus experience in such a setting, and alongside such amazing people. All the intention, patience, purity of heart and love really do make the most fantastic difference to my experience of this life. I am usually a very active person, finding it difficult to 'just chill' and do nothing, so the serene clarity and contentment of the cactus was a blessed and welcome gift. Perhaps the main lesson I came away with, a reaffirmation of one I had first been taught by changa, is that there is life at every level, every scale, every frequency. When we remain in one state, we miss the opportunity to observe the sentience of other beings around us. I am so grateful to come away with a mescaline medicine song, one which I will certainly call on many times in my future.
Gratitude. Appreciation. Love. Light!
"Becoming a person of the plants is not a learning process, it is a remembering process. Somewhere in our ancestral line, there was someone that lived deeply connected to the Earth, the Elements, the Sun, Moon and Stars. That ancestor lives inside our DNA, dormant, unexpressed, waiting to be remembered and brought back to life to show us the true nature of our indigenous soul" - Sajah Popham.