Five Weeks in the Amazon - #true #story

Chapter 23 - Nick & Nick

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 21

8:10am, my tambo

I want to go into town later so I can call Kelsey. She said yes when I asked her to be my girlfriend and I can't stop thinking about her. Besides that, holy fucking shit! Last night was spectacular, and another formidable ceremony I'll never forget. Soon after I got back to Otillia's, Nick, the long haired kid from Colorado, came walking into the clearing with his dad, Nick Sr.

Nick Sr. had a huge grin and looked happy to be in the jungle. His hair was wet and mostly gray, slicked on his head from walking in the rain.

I could tell it wasn't just being in the Amazon that had him so happy; he was happy here with his son. They seemed excited to be in each other's company. Standing there dripping wet, they finished each other's sentences as they described hiking to the property.

As I might have mentioned, over the last few months Nick Jr. has been immersing himself in the plant medicines of the jungle. He's been doing things like last week when he went to Paris' land solo and did seven days of consecutive Ayahuasca ceremonies. And here I thought I was pushing my boundaries!

Looking at them next to each other, Nick Sr. was like a grown up version of Nick Jr., and they seemed more like old friends than father and son. It made me smile to see them so happy next to each other It was contagious and I felt included in their friendship right away.

When the night came Joshua, Nick Jr., Nick Sr., Otillia and I all drank Ayahuasca together. Paris didn't drink with us because she is on her period. She sat with us but apparently if a woman drinks Ayahuasca during her special time of month, it can bring bad energy into the ceremony.

My guess is it that it probably has to do with how the body manages bodily fluids when you drink Ayahuasca. Almost everyone pukes, and some people have to find a bathroom and take a shit. I have to take a piss at least once during a long ceremony, but blood is something no one wants to see, especially not when they are vulnerable. Keeping a woman away from situations where they might leak blood might be about cleanliness in the physical realm more than anything else.

Our small group made the ceremony intimate and we shared ourselves with freedom. The common thread which wove us together was the inner purpose we each shared, the desire to better ourselves.

We desire the confidence to stand free, apart from the masses. We want to work smarter in life, not harder.

Everyone in the room has in fact already become their own bosses. Joshua teaches, Nick Jr. has something going online, Nick Sr. owns a landscaping company, Otillia is a shaman, Paris was a student and now a property owner, and I coach pro skateboarders.

They are all careers derived from who we are, in whatever form that has become. We have taken control of our lives and want to remove ourselves from the tortures of society in the Western world. We are here to improve ourselves, to break free from what is holding us back. We all want to ascend to the highest peak we can and we are all in it together.

Once we got to the part of the ceremony where somebody starts puking, Otillia started singing her rhythmic icaros to soothe them. It registered in me that it had become easier for me to drink Ayahuasca. That's not to say the taste doesn't get me every time—bluaaahhk, it does—but it's less intense now.

It's not just the taste though: it's all a little smoother. My body doesn't hurt as much, I can sit for longer, I have been singing and playing guitar, and I enjoy it. I like being in the moment and making up ad-lib songs. I look outside at nature, or inside at the people I'm with, and I find inspiration in it all. Everyone always claps and thanks me after each song. Even though I know I'm not that great, I know out here I'm one of the best so I am happy it pleases everyone so much.

This ceremony wasn't as profound as the ceremony at Paris', but it was remarkable in other ways. This is what I've come to expect from Ayahuasca. There were no moments of infinite ecstasy, but I did come to the understanding that I have to do more healing while I am here.

12:29pm, riding in a bus back to Iquitos

We are driving slowly in the back of an overcrowded collectivo. It was once a mini-van that has had more seats added and is now used as a mini-bus.

Our driver pulled over and packed us in the back, periodically pulling over to pick up more people. Before long the van was filled with locals, babies, chickens, kittens, firewood, and all kinds of things.

Our bags are squished under our feet. I am crammed up against the window next to the two Nicks. It's not as uncomfortable as it sounds, though. It's kind of cozy and the window has a small ledge just big enough for me to fold out my notebook and write on.

During the drive Nick, Sr., has been telling us what an amazing time he had at Otillia's. He said he got a lot from the experience. He'd loved her property and valued the way Otillia guided us through the traditional ceremony.

He told us that at one point he had seen all his old friends, and his family from when he was younger. They had all surrounded him, and after seeing them, and feeling them all, their love was woven into each other and him. Everyone he'd been close to in his entire life was there in his vision.

He tried to explain the support and loving energy he'd felt, but Nick Jr. and I knew it wasn't something that language could describe. He didn't need to explain; we knew what he was talking about. His eyes held the truth, and they didn't deny a word he said.

I'm happy to have met them both. They're inspiring people to be around, but that's no surprise: Colorado seems to make a lot of people like that. Nick Sr. is the type of father I hope to be one day, and Nick Jr. is someone I've looked up to since the moment I first met him at the plaza.

He may be younger than me, but his dedication to living a liberated life is impressive. There's nothing he's scared to explore, nor does there seem to be any fear alive within him. He is a warrior whose war is waged against the conditioned, self-restricted human nature we've all become caged within.

I imagine taking the steps Nick took when he walked off the boat and up the trail that week he brought a week's supply of the strongest Ayahuasca he could find to Paris'. I can hear the random birds and buzzing insects in all their loudness, intensifying the silence of being alone. Sitting there, in the same room I'd sat in with Joshua and Paris, he'd dove head first into his existence as fearlessly as if he was diving from a safe clifftop into the ocean below.

Now that takes balls.