To the 8th Dimension - An Ayahuasca Tale

To the 8th Dimension - An Ayahuasca Tale

I was told that it takes 28 days for you to integrate what you experienced in the worlds opened up by the Ayahuasca. The shamans who guided our journeys in the heart of the Peruvian Amazon warned us to take things very slowly upon our return, as the inner process was still incomplete. I’m a warrior, I told myself. 28 days are the number of little white pills in my fiancé’s purse! I’m gonna give myself a week. So then after 2 days I dove back into my life like a pitbull on Viagra in a steak house full of bitches. After all, I had been to the 8th dimension. I had experienced a reality that few have ever been privy to. What could possibly slow me down? 

Everything. That’s what. As hard as I fought throughout July, I kept getting in my own way. Work was getting done but I was stuck in spiritual quicksand and the more I thrashed about the more I choked on the sand. I tried every day to write the blog that would change the world. The words never quite came out right. But as the prophetic month passed I could feel a quiet wisdom settling over me. My memories of the experience remained just as vivid, but instead of fiery urgency, I had the patience of a sage who had returned from the mountain with a few battle-scars and the realization that nothing happens overnight.

And so here I am, the words peeling from my fingers like a ripened banana. I bring back a secret that very few know, and even fewer have experienced. The secret is that the physical world encompasses only 4 layers of a 9 sheathed onion, and we are like a needle that runs through all of the layers. The problem is that we are only self aware of a portion of ourselves, and so most of our existence is outside of our consciousness. The layers of the onion, for lack of a better word can be called dimensions. There are the first three that encompass the material world, and then there is the fourth dimension, linear time.

We are all very familiar with the first 4 dimensions, and to some degree the 5th dimension, though we may not know it as such. The 5th dimension is described by the ayahuasquero’s as the world of dreams and visions. Have you ever had a dream that you know you couldn’t possibly have thought up on your own? (If you have ever taken AlphaBrain® you probably have!) The shamans say it is because you accessed something greater than yourself. The 5th dimension is linked to the collective consciousness of humankind—It is the dimension of the archetypes and the experiences of all who have come before and will come after. It is the first dimension that is outside of the confines of time.

Normal psychedelic experiences and even meditative practices can allow you to probe this dream dimension, and as a journeyman myself, I had mapped this region with interest for a dozen years. Ignorant of any other planes, I was thrilled to gather the valuable lessons from my trips into the void like little gems to collect in a chest of knowledge. So nothing could have prepared me for the DMT rocket-ship that blasted me straight out of the 5th, through the 6th, fueling up in the 7th, before finally delivering me into the heart of the 8th dimension… the realm of pure potentiality.

It was this arrival to the penultimate plane that created a breach in reality from which I can never return. I saw it, I felt it, I was there… It fucking happened! And the lucidity of my experience can never be taken from me, even if I am never able to return again. How did this all come about? It was a combination of being the right person in the right place, with the right shaman, and benefiting from a healthy push from the benevolent forces that be. Oh, and let’s not forget… before I could get there I needed to die. Here is how it all happened:

The Dragon

I had arrived in the Peruvian Amazon then motored 3 hours by canoe up the Madre De Dios river, a solid hundred miles from civilization. I was with a troupe of good-hearted ‘shamans in training’, and arrived with the promise to get to work with the best ayahuasca Maestro’s in the world, called Ayahuasqueros. I was a bit of an outcast from the group, as I arrived with no ‘training’ and traveled with no crystals, rattles, or rose scented water. I was generally warmly received, but there was something very different about me and was fairly self evident. While they brought extensive schooling, I brought a body that was fit to go to war and the experience earned from countless lonely voyages into the world beyond time.

So when that evening we were given the choice of three Maestros who could lead us in ceremony, I chose the one they called “The Dragon”, named for his highly unusual totem animal. He had a reputation as the most terrifying and most traditional. That sounded like the kind of general I wanted leading me into battle with the unknown. I would later learn that his late grandfather who taught him from childhood was highly regarded as one of the most powerful Ayahuasqueros in the history of Peru. I can attest that the lineage did not lose strength as the generations passed.

Across the River Styx

It was a long walk into our ceremonial hut, nestled on the fringe of the wild, and I was quiet. Many of my good-natured compatriots, carrying their bundles full of stones and sacred objects, laughed and joked along the way. I was impressed by their levity on the eve of such an experience. Perhaps they are stronger than I anticipated? It was about 8:30 when we got settled in, ten of us with mats, feet facing toward the center like spokes of a wheel. There were large, hosed down plastic bowls by our side. The bowls were for the vomit… one of the cleansing byproducts of the tonic they call the ‘master medicine’.

The generator shut down as soon as we were settled. The moonlight was blocked almost entirely by the jungle canopy above and with the lights off, it was cave-dark in the room. By a single candle, the Maestro called us up one by one, and poured the ayahuasca into a polished coconut husk. He blessed the liquid with a terse blast of his breath that made a sound like “shooooh” and we drank. It had the consistency of molasses mixed with earth, and a bitterness so strong it burned hot in your mouth. When we had all been dosed, he blew out the candle.

The Chaos of the Cleanse

Silence and darkness for thirty minutes, and then the first of the people started to rustle. It was mild at first… Nothing more than a burp, a shift, or the grumble of a stomach, all but drowned by the sound of the roaring jungle. The Maestro started to whistle his ‘Icaros’, songs passed down to him from his grandfather and taught to his lineage by the spirit of ayahuasca. I smiled as I could start to sense the medicine working. My visions intensified and that sense of energetic activation I was familiar with came over me. Then the puking started in the room. It was not the purging of a bulimic, carefully eliminating their stomach contents quietly and discreetly. This was the vomit of organs shedding the rot of years of diet soda, fake food, and poor exercise. It was violent and savage. Orlando increased the intensity of the icaros, adding his voice to the song and shaking a branch with leaves that sounded like the flapping of a hundred wings.

The woman to my right purged with a scream. I was jolted out of my trance with a sense that something was wrong. Then I could feel it… wetness seeping through my socks. She had puked on my feet instead of the bowl. You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! With nothing to do about it and no use complaining, I peeled the wet, chunky wool from my feet and curled to the back of the mat. I could feel my own organs squeezing in my stomach, but I had no urge to vomit… It would seem my mode of evacuation was destined for another path.

Then the first chaos erupted in the room. One of the younger female ‘shamans’ started wailing and crying “help, me, help me!.” She was followed by an older man who started singing the songs of the shaman, but like a kid who doesn’t know the words he was always two beats off, and only made a mess of things with an off-pitch echo. An older woman to my left lost control of her internal monologue, and started speaking everything that came in her head. She carried on for the next 6 hours, climaxing in a full hour stuck on the idea that she couldn’t tell whether she had “actually” shit her pants or not. I realized then that my ‘shaman’ friends were a class of karate black belts who had never actually gotten in a street fight. Ayahuasca just punched them in the face and they were trying to figure out what to do about it.

None More Clever Than Death

My own experience lived up to the reputation of the vine. Quickly visions of snakes entered my consciousness, and without warning savagely started working their way through my body, eating every piece of flesh they could find. My chest heaved forward in spasms, working me into a sweaty lather, and destruction continued to close in around me. When the snakes were done I was sliding down vines of thorns, with the spikes ripping at my naked flesh (I was particularly perturbed that i was naked in my visions, and uncomfortably had to witness the desecration of my manhood!) When the spikes were done it was insects burrowing into my skin and exploding when they entered my body. When I opened my eyes I could see large white anaconda encircling the hut and a vortex of energy twisting upward from the feet of Maestro Orlando. For the full report of the visions from my experience, as told in the ‘shamanism’ section of the blog, COMING SOON.

The visions were not so bad though, I was used to those… and my own experience had taught me simply to be a passive observer. My true test would come when the ayahuasca would use my own weaknesses against me. I have been plagued with swollen lymph glands since contracting the immune virus Epstein Barr in high school. After my uncle died of lymph cancer and another my own age contracted the same, it has been a persistent but largely ignored fear. With crystal clarity I heard a voice tell me that I had cancer, and I was going to suffer and die within a year. At first, I wrestled with the thought, telling myself it wasn’t true, that it couldn’t be true. But it didn’t work. For every reason I came up with why I was healthy, there was triple the assurance I was sick. On the verge of panic I remembered the mantra of the psychedelic explorer “witness and allow.” I said to myself if this is my fate, so be it. I will live my final days with dignity, love my family, cherish my woman, and do as much as I can to contribute to the light of the world before I leave. As soon as I had finished that thought, the voice was gone. My chest stopped heaving, I felt my body melt into the earth, and despite the lady still wondering if she had shit herself… I was at peace.

Maestro Orlando came straight over when I had finished my ordeal. I sat up. “Como Estas?” he asked in a whisper. “Bien, Muerto,” I replied, mustering a smile. He laughed a throaty chuckle, repeating the word muerto. He called me over to his seat, where he would give me the cleansing rites of the closing ceremony. It was there that he would begin the process to open the doors to the next dimensions.

A Glimpse Into The 7th Dimension

I knelt in front of him and could hear the crunching of the dried cinnamon sticks in his teeth. He asked me to lean forward, and he opened the back of my shirt behind my neck. With force he blew a sonic boom of air down my back, and at that very instant I felt like I was on one of those carnival rides where the bungie cords stretch down and launch you upward into the sky. I was propelled into a world I did not understand. It was a maze of vibration and light, it was beautiful, powerful, and completely undecipherable. And just as quickly as I arrived, I was drawn back again into reality. Three more sonic booms, on my chest, the top of my head, and my open palms and each time I had ten seconds of entry into another dimension. I felt like screaming, just like the guy from the “double rainbow” YouTube video “WHAT DOES IT MEAN!!?” I didn’t have the Rosetta stone for this language I was witnessing. I looked at Maestro Orlando, eyes wide like a stunned dear, and The Dragon just laughed again. I stumbled out of the hut, donating my vomit socks to the children of the jungle, took a 20 minute shit that made sounds I never knew to be possible, and drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

A Born Again Pagan

I woke the next morning after 6 hours of sleep and felt better than I had in 10 years. A proverbial weight had been shed–I had energy to burn, I felt healthy, radiant, and enlightened. I ate the fresh organic meals prepared by the staff, wrote in my journal, went on a hike through the jungle and took a night to reflect on my experience. The legend of the Dragon had started to spread, as everyone in our hut that first night had died, dwarfing the collective experiences of the other Shamans in breadth and intensity.

The Wyracocha

The third night arrived and I was determined to launch myself back into that other dimension I didn’t understand. My intent was to experience the joy of life and push the boundaries of exploration as far as they could go. I learned a valuable tip from the most powerful non-ayahuasquero healer in the group, Dona Marcela, about how to open what is called the Wyracocha and use it as spiritual armor prepare you for launch into the higher dimensions. I’ll be talking about the Wyracocha and its purpose in incarnation in a later blog.

Fueling the Rocket for Dimensional Travel

The number of people desiring to work with Maestro Orlando by the third night had doubled so we set up in a slightly larger room, closer to the lodges. I placed myself in a protected niche to avoid any vomit that might be ejaculated onto me by my ever-so-stalwart companions. I went up to the maestro before the session and told him one word. “Fuerte.” He smiled his understanding. I am going to have more than enough fuel tonight.

When it was my turn to approach, he filled the cup to the brim. I carefully grasped it in my hand, set my intent one more time and drained it. It was a three gulp chug; nothing a pub dog would brag about, but when you are talking about bitter psychedelic rocket fuel that is no small feat! I went back to my mat and waited.

Everything started normal, with typically introspective visions for me to place in my treasure chest of insight. Advancing in my journey I saw some eels come up from the water, likely looking to ravage my insides like the snakes. I made a conscious decision to I stop them at the border of my extended Wyracocha armor. I greeted them, and kindly let them know that today was not the day for killing me. They wriggled in place for a moment before leisurely swimming off. I smiled, proud of the new trick I had learned.

Then at about t-75 minutes something happened and it can only be described as such: The top of my head came off. Electricity filled every cell of my brain, from the spinal cord to pre-frontal lobe. It was a physical sensation more than anything… like every neuron was synced in energetic alignment. I am sure that if you put my head onto one of those brain scanners it would have looked like the whole thing was uniformly radioactive. Dozens of journeys with energy medicine from around the world, and no sensation has ever even approached this. I felt like shouting just like Goldie at the start of an epic UFC matchup, “Here we go!”

I could hear the icaros of the Dragon gathering in intensity, and could see a mighty vortex emerge from the blackness in the center of the room. Then another feeling came over me. This time not foreign in sensation, but in intensity and duration. It was a feeling of pure ecstasy, emanating from every cell of my body. I didn’t know whether to cry or scream or yell or laugh or everything at once. The closest thing I can liken it to is right at that moment when you are about to orgasm, just imagine that sensation stretched out for 10 minutes but having nothing to do with sex! It was as if Creation was showing me exactly why we were given these bodies and what they are ultimately capable of… A pleasure that could never exist without the physical realm. I know what a lot of you are thinking, and the answer is no. I didn’t nut in my pants!

When finally the ecstasy began to subside I whirled through indecipherable visions of light and energy before a large organic flotilla appeared above me. It was a living mass of feathers, snakes and earth and as it hovered over my body sucked black smoke from my chest and throat. The entity stayed overhead until the smoke stopped seeping from my pores, then it quietly floated on its way back toward infinity. Right on its heels a metallic mothership arrived. It was definitely metal but it had writing on it that looked straight out of Stargate. As a child having been traumatized by the film “Fire in the Sky” I have always imagined such crafts with a sense of terror. In my current state however, I could easily perceive its benevolence so I just watched it stop over me with pleasant curiosity. Simultaneously, a beam of light came shooting out of the bottom while I had unconsciously placed my tongue on the roof of my mouth to receive it. Light poured in through the thin membranes covering my salivary glands. I was downloading something that had no physical sensation, neither warmth or tingle, and lay frozen with mouth agape. To this moment the thought of it sends my hair up straight, because there is no possible explanation for why I knew to let the light enter my body underneath my tongue. It was as if some forgotten instinct from a lifetime spent in a different world suddenly emerged. After several minutes drinking from the spicket of the terminal intergalactic fiberoptic, the light retracted and the craft floated off, bearing the same direction as the organic flotilla.

The 8th Dimension: Pure Potentiality

Then it happened. Whoosh, the walls of our ceremonial chamber were blown out, and everything became silent. A vast eternity of distant stars were around me, unmoving and unchanging. Maestro Orlando was the only being that shared this dimension, and I could see him jutting out on a precipice, singing his icaros and rattling his leaves. It was clear that he was an integral part of creating this new world I just entered. I sat up and turned my head left and right. I could perceive the room and the beings in it, but it was through lenses refracted by brilliant white light. No matter which way I turned my head, the background never changed… the shaman was always at 3:00 in my field of vision and some terraforma was always at 9:00 even if I did a full 360 degree turn. My movements dictating the vision of my eyeballs in the 3rd dimension had no correlation to movements wherever I found myself then.

I was extremely lucid at this point. There were no visions coming, nothing ‘happening’ to me at all, so I decided to start trying things out on my own. I thought of my friend in Atlanta who was recovering from a car accident. I could see him in a bar or restaurant talking with friends, which I took as a good sign of his health (I hadn’t talked to him in a few weeks). I was amazed at how easily and clearly the image of him came to me. There was no time lapse, it was as if the very instant I thought of him, I could see him there, with 20/10 clarity. I turned my gaze deeper and started scanning his body for injury… I found something I didn’t like in his rib cage. Without really knowing what I was doing, I breathed light into him, and could see a little army of photons go to work mending some energetic wound.

WHOA! I couldn’t believe what I just did. I then decided to scan my own body, and I used my hands like a giant x-ray machine. As I scanned over everything I pondered my current physical form. I was pretty proud of myself for the body I manifested, but strangely for someone who is a victim of a mild case of the rampant narcissism prevalent in our society I was completely unattached! The only analogy I can use is if I was a wealthy mechanic who owned a thousand cars and I decided to run a ten point inspection on the one I was currently driving.

During my inspection, I felt something wrong in my lymph nodes… I put my fingers to the spot on my neck and pulled out this sticky, ooze-like energy. It clung to my fingers like black grease, and I had no idea how to get it off! I shook it, and some fell off. Then I pushed it into the ground and that helped a little, but finally I had to take my water bottle and rinse my fingers into my yet unsullied vomit bowl.

WHOA! If I could do that what else could I do? It was about at this point that I started to worry that the Men in Black were going to come and erase my memory. I couldn’t possibly be allowed to take knowledge of this magnitude back with me. It was too paradigm altering. It was too life changing! I tried one more test. I thought about my life and my business endeavors. I saw myself as a beating heart, being fed by a bunch of tubes which represented each aspect of my business. I could see where I was mismanaging aspects of some of my companies, and see where vast opportunities awaited if I could only just unclog the tubes! I also saw channels I built with immense effort that were ultimately connected to very small resources… I made a mental note of all that I saw.

A Time Capsule from Beyond Time

That was all I could handle. I jumped up from my mat and left the ceremonial room, on a bee-line to my hut. I had to record this information just in case it would be forgotten forever. Walking was a precarious task, because while my feet were firmly planted on the wooden planks, my perception still rested partly in the other dimension. As I got farther from the room however, I could feel myself slipping partly out of the dimension and walking became easier. I opened my hut door, grabbed my camera, and recorded a message that I felt would cement the memory of my experience, even if for some reason everything else drifted away. Here is what I recorded, in its full up-the-nostril camera angle glory:

The Real “Master Cleanse”

When I returned to the room, I asked the maestro for another cup of ayahuasca. He obliged, and within 30 minutes, I had my first oral purge. It was orderly and intense. First heave emitted the contents of my stomach, which was a bit of water and a bit of ayahuasca. Each of the subsequent wretches seemed to squeeze one particular organ like my liver, or kidney and unleash a unique type of bile with its own taste and consistency. Every living tissue in my body contracted, creating a heterogeneous phlegm stew as an offering to the spirit of ayahuasca.

A Secret Revealed – The Journey Explained

The next few days I would talk to the Maestros about my experience, and it was then I learned about the 9 dimensions. Piece by piece I was able to track my journey, and add theoretical knowledge to my experiential knowledge in order to form a new epistemological foundation for my operating paradigm.

So as I mentioned earlier, the 5th dimension is the dimension of dreams and the collective experience of humanity. The sixth dimension is described as the world of spirits, and the home of Pachamama, the Earth Mother. It is the place where one can encounter spirit guides, totem animals, or even have communication with deceased relatives or ancestors. The snakes and the eels I encountered were a part of this dimension. I had been to this place before, and gotten there a few different ways. One occasion I was laughing with my late Grandfather Aubrey whom I never met, which has contributed to me adopting his name, my born middle name, as my common name. Those who smoke DMT almost always reach this dimension directly, and frequently talk about the beings they encounter there. Until the second session, the 6th dimension was as far as I have ever gone.

The 7th dimension is described as an energetic dimension, where you encounter extremely large, non-personal entities. During my first ayahuasca meditation Maestro Orlando gave me a peek into the seventh dimension with his sonic teleporter. I wasn’t there long enough to encounter any ships such as those encountered in my second session, but I had made a breach, and that was important. The entities which I perceived as ships, were explained to me as benevolent entities whose purpose was to prepare me for travel to the 8th dimension. The organic floating mass pulled out whatever weight might have hindered me in my journey, and the metallic ship uploaded the source code that would allow me to function in the penultimate ring of existence.

The 8th dimension is the last dimension before the ninth dimension, which is oneness with all creation. Any beings encountered in the 8th dimension are by default entirely benevolent as nothing impure could exist on so high a plane. They say it is the realm of the angels, for lack of a better word. I didn’t encounter any beings, but what I did experience was pure potentiality—the ability to affect change in all dimensions below the 8th. I was able to play a small part in healing a sick friend, see him as he lay in his bed, scan my own body for illness, removing impurities on the spot, and visualize my entire life as a flow of energy, from every aspect of business to personal destiny. There was a challenge in reintegrating with the life I left running like a treadmill on full speed, but one month after my paradigm shifting session, my friend is healthier than ever, my glands have not been swollen for the first time in 12 years, and my business is thriving.

What else is possible in the 8th dimension? I don’t know… But part of my mission in life is to find out. For whatever reason, I was given access to a plane of being usually reserved for Maestro’s and seers. This great blessing comes with the responsibility to share this knowledge and use it to bring as much light into our often gray world as possible. With 2012 signaling the emergence of a new era, there is a sense of urgency not just from me, but from all the shamans of Inka and Mayan lineage. 2012 is not about an end, but a beginning. It is about the arrival of the new type of human, and the need to embark on a new way as a world. It starts with each of us opening our eyes; All three of them, to see how we can help usher in the new age. An age where we shed the superstitions and illusions of our petty monotheistic history, and look forward… to the future of Creation.

–WP


27 comments

  • I’m gonna work on that next week when I’m down there again

    aubreymarcus
  • I want to find the same answers you have found — how did you contact the Shaman that you went through and arrange your trip?

    jordan
  • It was very real, thats for sure! Thanks for coming by

    aubreymarcus
  • Awesome. I was really struck by your video entry. Brought me right back to my salvia experiences during which I drew the same conclusion and pulled them back with me with the same uncertainty and pullback. Thanks for sharing it.

    Trellis Jance
  • Hi Elizabeth,
    I am working on putting together some more contact information for that here shortly. Just keep up with me on twitter and facebook over this week, and I’ll have it up. Thanks!

    aubreymarcus

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