It’s time for a new mountain to climb.
Mt. Survivor was an essential step on my path, but I can’t bring myself to follow the advantage circus jumping sharks into oblivion. Mt. academia, mt. money and mt. monk were important steps, too, but none of them is my telos. Mt. blog was fun, but it doesn’t feel like my creative future, at least not in the autobiographical form that has thus far been Reiman’s Reality.
I’ve been wanting to write another blog post for a while now, but every time I try to sit down and do it, I realize I don’t have that much to say.
There are the things I’ve already said, the things not worth saying, and the things I don’t yet know how to say. Among the latter set of things is the draft of a post I intended to title “The Sham of Shamanism,” which was going to be about why I “broke up” with my shaman and quit my medicine work in the jungle. It was going to share events that began in January 2022 and defined most of my past year, and it was going to explain what led to the recent decision to take a break from all consciousness-altering plants.
I can’t write it, though.
In January 2022 Ayahuasca told me that something like this — having thoughts and ideas to express, but being unable to tell the story — would happen, and now it’s happening. I think I’ll eventually figure out how to say it all, or it will eventually figure out how to be said through me, but for now, my days of regaling you with tales of psychedelic journeys are coming to a hard stop. I’m realizing that when it comes to spirituality, the sacred, God, there’s no space for the hyper-evolved chimp called Reiman to speak. Some things can only be spoken of by the soul, and the language of the soul is silent.
I’m as annoyed as you are about this writing being so cryptic, saying so many words about saying nothing. I’m also relieved, though. Frankly, I’m tired of talking about my own journey.
I’m also tired of a world so intent on talking about meaningless nonsense, of social media talking about the surface of everything and the depth of nothing. I don’t care to speculate about whether a shitty U.S. president will be arrested today, or whether another shitty U.S. president has enough cognitive function left to serve twenty-two more months. It doesn’t seem necessary or even helpful to point out the impending collapse of financial systems, the pharmaceutical industry, broken medical paradigms and corrupt governments. Like I said, I don’t have much to say.
So, what is this?
Reiman’s Reality, the Substack publication, will still be about writing. It’ll be about writing in new forms. It’ll also be about listening, which I began doing in 2016 through the medium of podcasting. It’ll also be about fulfilling a purpose that was illuminated during my first Ayahuasca journey in Ecuador, when a shaman told me of my future: “You speak.”
On the other hand: Reiman’s reality, the current life of this Reiman guy, is about healing. I have so, so much to heal, and I have to start with myself — the heart that sustained an injury during my traumatic birth, the mind poisoned by culture, the physically contorted (yet recovering) head, the pain-ridden jaw, the stifled neck, the crackling chest, the fiery gut and the everything below.
After pouring so much energy into doing something externally successful, I finally remembered that the real work lies within. Everything I’ll do in the world is downstream from that. In healing myself and letting go of attachment and confusion, I find my next mountain.
Since this is one last autobiographical blog post, I’ll share one last autobiographical story — a story from the day after I got clean from las plantas, the day I took the photo above, as told in the metaverse to my friend here in Ecuador:
As scary as this experience was, and as much panic as I felt while rainy wind blustered over my hands that clutched rocks for dear life, I now feel only gratitude, because the scare reminded me that life is, in fact, dear.
When I’d been numbing myself with Cannabis and Tobacco every day, I’d fallen deep enough into delusion to feel apathetic about life. Cannabis made it all feel so silly and meaningless that I couldn’t snap out of slowly killing myself with Tobacco, which in turn made my body feel horrible, which made me use more Cannabis to feel okay. All of this while reeling from the changes Ayahuasca catalyzed, and forgetting that before I ever drank Ayahuasca or ate Mushrooms, I found higher consciousness in meditation. How easily we forget.
Almost haphazardly falling to my death reminded my still-drug-infused mind that I really, really don’t want to die. As much as a mind might pretend it’s fine with death (especially after experiencing death on plant medicine), it’s not, and a body shaking from fear can always remind it. Reminded, I can’t squander my life one more day. Grateful to be alive, I once again care about Reiman’s reality.
I care to grow into who I really am, and once I’ve done that, we’ll see what this becomes.
Thank you for your vulnerability and for sharing. An avid reader, I always enjoy following your lucid, questioning streams which ache always for clarity. Who among us hasn't lived this way? At least those of us not content to be sleepwalking.
Awakening is one thing. Continually remembering for years on end after the 'A-ha' is another; is part of the worldly experience I feel. Without remembering perhaps there is no awakening (just another duality). Practice brings one consistently close. Reminders. Discipline (that Being is always priority #1.)
This is a natural consciousness for plants, trees, animals, etc. Humans are blessed with the gift (and the dream of madness to awaken from: our Hero/Non-hero journey) for higher, self-aware consciousness.
Beyond all words (I feel that in your blog), at this point, the primary calling is to feeling within: to solitude, peace and intelligence beyond the mind. To knowing. To simple peace and gratitude for no reason which doesn't need to be analyzed and understood to be replicated.
This is the remedy for experiencing life seeking out, seeing
The outer world: dizzying.
The inner world: who I purely am.
Living from the inside out, everything I see then reflects from this solace. When I am still, one, confident in following guidance -- the world reflects this. When I am panicking and searching -- the world reflects this. Know Thyself.
~
Trust some friendly outside words when I tell you: from within you are guided beyond the goals of a "little me" obsessed with "making a mark" by temporal doings. All of your interests & passions are instilled within beyond your scope. Let this feeling guide you beyond the self.
Without the primary awareness, all doing is colored by the lost search. ('What you are being, you are creating'.)
Last: I enjoy not only reading but writing as well. I am creating space to cultivate the first long-form story (the hardest I am sure). I would love to continue reading your words, whether in short-form or long-form, whether autobiographical or fiction. You are raw, vulnerable, humorous and philosophical.
Much love.
Reiman, I look forward to what you have planned for continuing this blog. Life sure is a journey, isn't it? While I didn't have the opportunity or fortune to partake in your kind of enlightenment path, I was able to use plants and to visit other countries and cultures during my military days. It opened my eyes. Our media has indeed lied to us and are trying to make it 'us vs. them.' We're all in this together. I know that's looked at as a cliche, but it's true.
And I'm not going to lie to you. I'm gay, and have had a kind of crush on you since your 'Survivor' days. And not ashamed to say so. Yes, the bod. But it's something far deeper than that. And now that I've connected to you and read your blogs, and gotte to know the gorgeous man's thoughts, it's deepened. I hope you're not offended by this revelation. I tell the truth. And I think most folks find my frank honesty refreshing.
Please take good care of the man I've always known as Reiman, not Spence. 🤗❤️