Читать книгу Reality Is Just an Illusion - Chuck Sr. Coburn - Страница 17

It wasn't until twenty-four hours later, when I retraced my steps from the previous evening, that I realized it had been pitch dark in the jungle that night. There was absolutely no light from the moonless mid­night sky. The next day, I asked the shaman about this light phenomenon. He just smiled and nodded his head. Our translator, who had consumed ayahuasca on many prior occasions, did not need to hear his words to tell me that night vision is a common occurrence. The spirits just make it easier for you to see, the shaman seemed to be expressing with unspoken words from behind his full smiling face.

I also remember becoming cognizant of the many friendly eyes that appeared to be a part of all living things around me. The trees surrounding our compound, the plants of the rain forest, and even the stars in the night sky all seemed to have an awareness of us­—they were watching, guiding. They were friendly and, although my partner, Lynne, had faithfully promised that she would not allow me to wander away from the safety of the enclosure, I was being drawn to the outer edge of the scary unknown. Why are you afraid? the eyes seemed to be asking. Accept us . . . let go of the fear!

Later, when my logical mind returned from its sabbatical, I realized that my perception of the eyes during an altered state suggested that everything on the planet is, in effect, conscious. Certainly, the creatures of the forest have life. One could build a convincing case that the flora and fauna interact with us as well. Scientists have been able to successfully determine, for example, that talking nicely to your houseplants produces healthier specimens than shouting at or ignoring them. Even the rocks on the ground have a consciousness—of their mass, if nothing else. The planet is indeed alive and will talk to us, if only we will listen. Mother Earth is truly vital—and the shaman's ability to speak and interact with her is his healing tool.

The day after the ceremony, we all woke up refreshed, without the hangover we fully expected after what we had done to our bodies the previous night. The shaman met with us individually and shared what he had observed while accompanying each of us on our separate experiential journeys and healings. When it was my turn, he informed me that he had removed some emotional as well as physical blocks from my body. Then he mentioned both the snakes and the eyes.

"How did you know that?" I stammered.

"I journeyed with you," was his simple reply.

I was dumbfounded. Even though I had become a professional psychic as result of my unexpected metaphysical awakening, I am always amazed when someone else makes an extrasensory observation. I have been doing this psychic stuff for quite awhile and I am still occasionally astonished when I issue a psychic proclamation and my clients confirm that I am correct.

"Do you know you are a healer?" the shaman added, more as a statement than a question.

This was the same question asked of me by numerous shamans and psychics whom I have encountered on my spiritual journeys throughout the world, including a second healer I was soon to meet in the Ecuadorian Andes. It seemed that I was being repeatedly tutored to understand that I was not to neglect the special psychic gift I had been given—as if it had been loaned to me only on spiritual approval.

"Do not ignore what you have been given,” he said. "Journey into the rain forest and talk to the spirits. Do not be afraid . . ."

Then, summoning the next of our group with a nod of his head, our brief time together was finished.