Postscript to Ayahuasca and Stuff

Okay: A few people have asked me: so, in regards to the last entry, Ayahuasca and the Glory, are the presents real or were you just imagining them?
The answer is that they're more real than I can describe. But I don't have any control. So they're not mine. When I need to talk to a plant, I can; when I need a song for healing, I have it, but I can't remember it later. When I need to know what someone is thinking it's clear as a bell; otherwise, I'm as in the dark as the rest of us. And I imagine that if I gave myself fully to being a healer/curandero that I'd have these things available. But I don't. Right this second I can no more go to Saturn or Pluto--which is a lot less dense than people say--than the man in the moon. But if I needed that view, well, then the guardians, and particularly the sachavaca, seem to lend that to me for a few seconds. Which is probably more than I deserve, but I will take the love.
On the other hand, I've been called up short, and perhaps rightfully, for the prostitute incident in the story. Problem was, it was a real incident and I'm trying to write these things honestly and I didnt know how to leave it out. Same with the theft of my guests' funds: I stole them, hoped to repay them, couldn't. I'm very proud that I went there in person to let them wail on me. Or whale on me. And I'm very very happy that money got sent to me that I wasn't expecting and wasn't owed the very next day and which covered the trip....I think that came because I had the heart to face my theft. But I stole my guests' money to keep my house, nothing more, and the guardians took care of me for having the courage to face my fate because of it. I'll try to be a better person next time.
On better notes: Marco turned 20 on Wednesday and that's wonderful. He was slated to die when he was seven-years-old and his kidneys failed but he came through then and has been coming through ever since. I love you, Marco. Thanks for being my son.
On another better note: Someone I was in love with 40 years ago got in touch with me recently and I have spoken with her a few times on the phone. I wish I was not stuck in points in time because when I was talking with her last night I wouldnt' let her get off for fear I would never get the chance to talk with her again. Just like when it was time to go home when I was 17 and I wanted that kiss to last like 2 million years and couldnt' let it go. So she probably thinks I'm an idiot who kept talking endlessly about nonsense: Truth is I was just trying to keep her on the phone long enough to decide she was in love with me and would end the conversation with: "I
will be there in the morning. I've missed you for 40 years...."
Or some such.
Do you guys believe how much I open myself up for ridicule here? I can't believe it myself. Yikes!!!
Still, you deserve the truth.
P

Posted by Peter Gorman at 3:33 PM

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