Naked Mountain

By Bryan Jae

The way I view reality changed dramatically when I was twenty years old.  I began to fall in to suicidal thoughts, depression and symptoms of schizophrenia.  I was lost and confused.  I found a spiritual connection that I previously had never even considered.  Six years later my heart started to hurt deeply and I knew it was with regards to spirit.  I had fallen off the path and walked a while on a course of destruction.  This book starts at the beginning of my healing in January of 2017.  It entails my struggles with the outside world while it dives in to my heart and spirit. 

This quote by C.G Jung entails the healing that I am going through the best.  It took the whole journey I wrote about to see this is what was happening. 

The best political, social, and spiritual work we can do is to withdraw the projection of our shadow onto others. - C.G Jung

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryan Jae
• Release date: May 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201913540

Bryan Jae

Bryan Jae graduated with a BA in environmental studies and a minor in climate change from the University of Montana in 2013.  He became lost in the spiritual aspects of existence and was unable to ground himself in the reality of this world.  He found a medicine called Yagé in December of 2013 and kept coming back to see how it could help him manuever on this earth and learn how to co-create dreams of a new way of existence.  He is now 31 years old, has recorded with a Grammy Award winning producer, and works as a painter to fund his pursuits to live in Colombia South America on a coffee farm/hostel/music school.   Bryan Jae is a poet, musician, and writing and works to build his skills in carpentry and gardening while always building a strong heart and mind connection.  

Book preview

Naked Mountain

Moving through a Heart in Pain with the guidance of Yagé (Ayahuasca)

Marcel Proust

This lost country composers do not actually remember, but each of them remains all his life somehow attuned to it; he is wild with joy when he is singing the airs of his native land, betrays it at times in his thirst for fame, but then, in seeking fame, turns his back upon it, and it is only when he despises it that he finds it when he utters, whatever the subject with which he is dealing, that peculiar strain the monotony of which—for whatever its subject it remains identical in itself—proves the permanence of the elements that compose his soul. But is it not the fact then that from those elements, all the real residuum which we are obliged to keep to ourselves, which cannot be transmitted in talk, even by friend to friend, by master to disciple, by lover to mistress, that ineffable something which makes a difference in quality between what each of us has felt and what he is obliged to leave behind at the threshold of the phrases in which he can communicate with his fellows only by limiting himself to external points common to us all and of no interest, art, the art of a Vinteuil like that of an Elstir, makes the man himself apparent, rendering externally visible in the colours of the spectrum that intimate composition of those worlds which we call individual persons and which, without the aid of art, we should never know? A pair of wings, a different mode of breathing, which would enable us to traverse infinite space, would in no way help us, for, if we visited Mars or Venus keeping the same senses, they would clothe in the same aspect as the things of the earth everything that we should be capable of seeing. The only true voyage of discovery, the only fountain of Eternal Youth, would be not to visit strange lands but to possess other eyes, to behold the universe through the eyes of another, of a hundred others, to behold the hundred universes that each of them beholds, that each of them

The way I view reality changed dramatically when I was twenty years old.  I began to fall in to suicidal thoughts, depression and symptoms of schizophrenia.  I was lost and confused.  I found a spiritual connection that I previously had never even considered.  Six years later my heart started to hurt deeply and I knew it was with regards to spirit.  I had fallen off the path and walked a while on a course of destruction.  This book starts at the beginning of my healing in January of 2017.  It entails my struggles with the outside world while it dives in to my heart and spirit. 

This quote by C.G Jung entails the healing that I am going through the best.  It took the whole journey I wrote about to see this is what I was doing. 

The best political, social, and spiritual work we can do is to withdraw the projection of our shadow onto others. - C.G Jung

Naked Mountain

Moving through a Heart in Pain with the guidance of Yagé (Ayahuasca)

Direction Changed

If you want to make god laugh, tell him your plans.  – Woody Allen

Iarrived in Colombia in January of 2017.  My focus, to become a famous musician.  My plan, teach English online while traveling the world and work with different producers from different countries.  First, I needed some medicine.  I needed to rearrange myself.  My heart was in pain for the last eight months.  I knew it was something spiritual.  I said no to the spirit world in April of 2016.  Two months later, I told spirit to never leave me again.

I arrived at Hostel El Dorado early morning.  I immediately met another traveler who said she had friends in Bogotá with a studio.  This was the dream right?  My destiny.  Find producers around the world and record with them.  It was laid out right in front of me.  My heart wasn’t ready though.  I decided to stay in San Gil to drink Yagé (Ayahuasca) for a little while.  It was a thought for the future though.  Why not just drink a little medicine, get balanced, then head somewhere else and record?  That’s not how it worked.  I don’t think that is how it ever works.  For some reason in my western mind I thought healing was a quick process.  Then I could go on to the next plan.  A quick healing and then off to continue on my destiny to become a famous musician.  It didn’t work that way.  I am glad it didn’t too.  I had waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more healing than I expected.  Plans are fun though.  They just never seem to work exactly how I think they will.  I think I want to stop planning.  No more plans.  That is my new plan.

I made it to a small orchard and home of my friends Moe and Larry.  They were currently in a state of ponder whether or not to sell the place.  San Gil was expanding.  Just across the river from their once tranquil farm where they facilitated Yagé ceremonies was now a loud discotecha.  Some nights it bolstered music until about four in the morning.  Dang, I really needed help.  But...  As it turns out...  The world is not about me.  My world, isn’t even about me.  But I struggled and was looking for direction.  I stayed with them for a few nights while we arranged my future home where I would teach English online as I connected with my heart and spirit again.  It is funny to say that in a sentence.  I would be teaching English online as I connected with my heart and spirit again.  Not sure if those two activities support each other.  Teaching English became a job for me that was going to support my passion of music and my dedication to helping this world transform in to a better place.  I was so focused on the outside issues I wasn’t able to look within myself.  That was all about to change.  I didn’t yet realize it. 

One night at Finca La Palmita I had one of the most powerful dreams of my life.  I went to sleep near a datura plant.  It has many names.  Some call it Devils Trumpet.  It can be used for extremely dark motives and is suggested as potentially the worlds most powerful roofie times a million.  One is at the whim of suggestions such as take me to the ATM or hey come with me to the hotel room while you are completely conscious and articulate.  Essentially, your will power is taken away from you and you give in to what anyone says (VICE).  Even though it is an extremely dangerous plant when used for darker purposes, Moe and Larry told me the flower helps with vivid dreams.  My teachers (who I will call Larry and Moe or simply the brothers), who facilitate Yagé ceremonies and the ones I came to visit for spiritual help, told me the flowers of the datura plant carry powerful energy that help with the dream state if you sleep near them. I haven’t found any research that can prove sleeping near the datura flower helps with dreams.  However, according to the human uses section on the Nature Collective website, when the plant is ingested, it can help with entering the dream state.  A young Chumash boy was given a liquid from pounded datura root. The resulting dreams revealed a spirit guardian, or dream helper to give him guidance in the future (Nature Collective).  Either way, the datura plant lived just outside my window where my head lay.  I believed at the time that it would help me with my dreams. 

The flowers were in full bloom.  Apparently, they worked.  I woke up in my bed unable to move.  Golden light spirits floated around on the wall next to my bed.  I was in sleep paralysis.  They spoke to me.  They said, we have you.  I struggled to move.  I was stuck.  I thought I heard my roommate asking for help.  I couldn’t respond.  I focused on the light spirits and listened.  I stopped fighting and decided to let go and trust the lesson from the spirits of light, sleep paralysis ended and I dove into a black hole.  I immediately woke up in amazement.  What does that mean?  Apparently it meant that I was going to change paths back to my heart path and follow my true spirit within. 

I didn’t know what I was getting in to.  I honestly just wanted to heal the pains in my heart.  These pains stemmed from not listening to heart, visions, or the symbols in the skies.  I was too lost to follow well.  It was partially an ego that built up from the name of Holy Looking that was given to me at 21 years old by a member of the Blackfoot Tribe from Canada when I went to a Sun Dance in Montana.  My name was Natooi Sube and meant Holy Looking.  I felt I had to be the one that began a big shift in the transformation of this world.  I felt I needed to be famous for some movement to happen at a quicker level.  I felt I failed the first twenty years of my life and needed to redeem myself.  Now, at twenty seven years old, six years after my name, I stumbled through heart and began to see a dark cloud around my mind.  I had focused on all the things I perceived as negative.  All I wanted to find was a bit of hope but my mind kept being distracted on the aspects of existence I perceived as negative.  I couldn’t see the small bumps of hope from local beer to local food and all the non-profits scattered around the world focused on making a change in a chosen area.  It’s quite beautiful actually.  Even with the bumps of hope I thought we were falling short.  I thought maybe I could be that grain of rice to tip the scales towards love and transformation.  Maybe, it was just me who was falling short. 

Over the next month and a half I began to settle in my home on a nearby farm.  I worked early mornings teaching English online and was able to take care of myself again.  I began to eat better and I exercised more.  I started to feel better.  My heart pains diminished and I knew I made the right choices to slow down in San Gil for a while instead of leaping to Bogotá to record music.  We had one Yagé ceremony before we went to Thunder Being Ridge in the Sierra Nevada’s of Colombia for a Sacred Medicine Retreat.  The brothers provide Yagé for the retreat.  During this ceremony in La Palmita, the brothers told me they would only give me a little bit of medicine because they had seen I carried a heavy heart.  They were right.  I was in pain.  I was pissed though.  I needed more medicine but I wasn’t able to receive it.  They told me to look after myself a little better before we headed to the retreat.  I did.  I was in bad shape spiritually, mentally, and physically.

The retreat was March of 2017.  It was a weeklong retreat that takes on many facets of emotional healing, spiritual growth, and healthy living.  One of the programs during the week is called Purpose Spark.  Purpose Spark is an inner journey that brings people together to talk about their deep emotions, pains, joys, and much more.  It helps people connect to their heart and opens them to the possibility of creating their dream.  It ignited a fire in my soul the first retreat I participated in.  The facilitator of this workshop is named Gregory.  Gregory is an eccentric personality that wants everyone to follow their heart and wonder ‘what else is possible’.  Now, I consider him a brother who inspires me every time we connect.  This was our first meeting.  I was deep in the dark.  Purpose Spark was one of the most powerful aspects of the retreat.  It helps one prepare internally for Yagé.

Quite a few people joined from Finca La Palmita.  Two of them talked a lot of shit.  They spoke down on the fluffiness in a lot of the medicine world.  It appeared aloof.  I felt the same way.  People seemed airy, their feet off the ground.  I judged.  I couldn’t see the judgements in my own mind though.  For now, I thought I disagreed while thoughts said ‘they were weird’.  At one moment, most of the crew worked on some inner healing.  I stepped away.  I went to work out with the other two and bull shitted about the aloofness of some spiritual people in this world.  Turns out, it was judgement.  I didn’t know how much judgement sunk in to my mind.  I let it latch on to the ways I perceived this world. 

I left the retreat one day to go and see if a jade turtle necklace was ready for me in Minca.  Brianna said, ‘maybe the turtle was a notion of patience right now in waiting for after the retreat’.  I didn’t care. I wanted it now.  I needed it.  Sometimes listening to those who have walked wiser than you up to that particular point in life is a good idea.  I chose many times to figure it out myself.  The necklace wasn’t ready and I missed an integral part of the ceremony which was a men’s circle.  A few weeks after the retreat I received a constellation from the person who ran the men’s circle.  He was waiting for the moment to tell me this.  He told me that I was pretty much bull shitting about permaculture and hiding behind my mother with how I walked in this life.  That’s what the constellation read which apparently described why I left during the men’s circle.  I don’t know if that is why I left.  I was over anxious and scattered.  I couldn’t see straight.  This world has the ability create deep confusion.  I was stuck in a confused state.   

The last two nights consisted of ceremony.  I made sure to take care of myself through exercise and healthy eating over the last month.  I was ready for the medicine once again.  The first cup came and was very subtle.  It wasn’t a full cup and I knew I needed more.  I went up for another cup after about an hour and Moe asked Larry if I could handle it.  Larry nodded his head in approval for a second cup and I got it.  I ended up drinking three cups that night and was reminded of who I am.  I stared out over the mountain ridges alive with cicada’s, ringing through my ears as I saw a rainbow in the sky.  Each time I thought about continuing the way I was walking the rainbow only formed partially across the valley.  But, when I considered going on a journey with the others in to the mountains of the Sierra Nevada’s, the rainbow crossed the valley, bridging the two mountain ridges.  I also created the idea in my mind that if I didn’t fulfill my destiny then the world would fall too.  I was again told that I was the Avatar of which my mind understood avatars only in the Hollywood James Cameron version of saving Pandora from the human invaders or Avatar the Last Air Bender which was to save the world from darkness.  The ‘savior complex’ as it is.  These were just creations in my mind but I believed I was the avatar.  I held the weight of the world on my shoulders.  I went and told Moe that I was the Avatar and if I didn’t listen better the world would fall.  Moe said that was pretty egotistical.  He was right.  He also said I did a good job coming to Colombia.  I went back to my sacred space where I conversed with the universe.  I said to the universe, I did do a good job.  As I said that a shooting star crossed my sights.  The first time in a long time that a shooting star has blessed me with its’ presence.  I was beginning to remember.  I am Natooi Sube.  I am Holy Looking.  I am broken.

The second night I was told to prepare my space again by my heart just in case I needed to go over there and be alone with the universe.  The first part of the night I laid around the fire and felt like I was transported to the middle east journeying with a few of the same people but in a different time period.  I went up for another cup and went to lay down on my yoga mat and get in my sleeping bag.  I felt the medicine tell me to go to my space, I didn’t want to.  I went to lay down and the medicine told me if I would stay here my journey would be over.  I went to my spot.  I didn’t realize it then how close the medicine was coming to kicking me out.  I broke down in my space and realized that I was lost and needed help.  From these two ceremonies I quit my job and decided to join the journey into the Sierra Nevada’s.  I also told the medicine that I wasn’t quite ready to commit to going to the Amazon with Moe and Larry but I was willing to quit everything.  So, I did. 

We were ten people from all over the world.  Nine of us were males and one female.  She was stronger than most of the males, including myself at times.  The idea was a fourteen-day trekking trip to the sacred lakes below the snow-capped peaks of El Bolivar and Pico Colon.  We would be provided dinners every evening with an exchange of gifts and money, while only walking four to five hours a day.  Sounded like a piece of cake.  I am a mountain man.  I can do this.  The only thing that might hold me back a little is that I seemed to have drank a parasite which was now alive and well in my body.  I had diarrhea and had vomited for two nights before the ceremonies.  The medicine seemed to help but didn’t fully heal me.

I only had a few jobs to prepare for the journey.  I gathered medical supplies as one of my tasks in preparation for the group, got gifts for the towns we were to visit, and prepared my gear.  It was a journey in to Santa Marta to pick up my boots, gather medical supplies, and get gifts for the villages along the way.  A city at the time I saw as only dirty and grotesque.  I didn’t like cities.  They seemed to wreak havoc on the environment and peoples’ mental health.  I struggled existing in the city commotion.  It may have been my own hate for them and perception they were ugly.  Maybe they actually carry heavy energies.  Most likely, it is the combination of the two. 

I made sure to search for gifts for the different villages we would visit.  I found a tiny little market next to the gold museum.  I walked in for a gander and noticed in the back some pictures of indigenous people.  I swiftly walked to this vender as others tried to capture my attention with sparkly trinkets.  I saw frog rocks upon frog rocks.  Many different sizes and types of rock.  The gal told me the peoples’ of the Sierra Nevada’s believed the frog was a symbol of prosperity.  I later learned that when the frogs came, the rains came. 

Finally the day came we were to leave.  We arranged our guide, Gabo, to pick us up with two trucks or jeeps.  I can’t remember which we had, maybe one of both.  We hopped in the vehicles and set off.  Emotions went from elated to nervous.  The two intertwine like a double helix.  Our mission, as we thought, was to arrive at the sacred lakes of the Sierra Nevada’s.  Basically no one is allowed to these lakes except for the indigenous peoples of the area.  They don’t allow some people from their own tribes who are considered too contaminated by alcohol, drugs, or corruption from the base of the mountain range.  How did we manage to get this journey?! 

We represented Germany, Colombia, United States, Canada, Spain, and England.  The gear was loaded and we were crammed inside, bunched together like a bundle of bananas.  It was a long ride.  About two hours bumping back and forth on narrow dirt roads.  We passed the trail to the homestead I walked on two years earlier in my first call to the Sierra Nevada’s.  Coffee farms decorated both sides of the mountain as we pressed forward with our four by fours.  The day was sunny with blue skies and no clouds in sight.  Well, I couldn’t see that far.  I was crammed in the middle seat between other long legged men.  No clouds were in my sight.

We arrived around noon at the end of the road.  It was a small village called La Tagua.  We stretched our legs and took a moment to relax.  It wasn’t a long day for us.  We only had a few hours to our first resting site.  The store was open and many of us bought extra snacks before we left for our fourteen-day adventure.  I grabbed a couple of Gatorades as the others began the journey down the trail.  I remember feeling nervous as they left my sights, still waiting for my Gatorade.  I anxiously paid the business owner and hurriedly scampered down the trail to catch up.  They weren’t far off.  But I was still very much so in my head and out of my body.  Like a child who needs mama’s protection.

We came to a small house and took a break.  We only walked about two hours, all downhill.  So far so good.  Everything was easy and I hadn’t had any diarrhea yet.  Our trip coordinator found some sort of berry and meandered in to tall grass.  Shortly after he noticed he had been tick bombed.  It was a term we used when one becomes infested with ticks all over the body.  He asked his partner River for some help.  River was the only female on the trip and proved to be one of the strongest of us all.  She was a beast.  Still is.  We kept going, now all itching with the idea a tick may be crawling in any human crevasse.  No one likes the feeling of crawling insects on their body.  It creates a sense of paranoia where each feeling is a deadly tick about to infect you with a life-threatening disease.  Paranoia.  Maybe paranoia is the life-threatening disease?

Our first destination was a small indigenous village.  The village was speckled with indigenous huts built out of clay walls with palm roofs that gave the people a safe dry place to sleep.  Kids stared at us in wonder and potentially confusion.  I don’t know if they ever saw any white people before.  Their eyes big, as they watched us from afar, peering around the corner.  They slowly got use to the fact we wandered in to their territory and kept on with their ways as we were shown to our home.  It was a concrete building with a bathroom and no lights. 

Gabo, our tour guide, showed us around the village where we saw their aquaponics systems and one of their sacred huts.  I wish I journaled better as I don’t remember what their sacred hut spoke about but I do remember a story which we were told outside of the sacred hut.  It was a story of death and crossing over.  This particular tribe spoke about death in a beautiful way.  They said when a person dies, it is dangerous to cry for the first seven days because the spirit of the deceased is in the spiritual world.  In this spiritual world they are on one side of the river for seven days which only has one bridge across to the other side.  If the people who care about them cry, then it will rain in the spiritual world and the river will flood, flooding the bridge.  The soul who just left our world then could not cross over to the other world.  If we don’t cry for the first seven days however, the soul will cross the bridge and return to the sacred mountains in the afterlife.

We only had a few hours of sleep when we woke up groggily to Gabo pushing us on.  We packed up and started off with our headlamps dotting the trail, 10 of them to be exact.  We had no idea what was about to happen.  We just learned that morning our journey was not to the sacred lakes below the sacred snow peaks.  It was to the lost city.  This trail we took was a hopeful future path for tourism to the well-known lost city of the Kogui people.  Their name is also Kágaba in the Kogui language which means Jaguar. (Kogi People). 

We were a little upset and befuddled.  We were here though and already paid over 300 dollars each to endure this journey.  Our confusion made sense.  The person who set up the journey didn’t speak Spanish and our guide only spoke Spanish.  Ryan, our leader on the journey and founder of Thunder Being Ridge was an idealistic human who maybe felt privileged in the spiritual.  I didn’t think of that at the time.  I barely knew this person but he seemed to have is head in the spirit with a connection that appeared to ‘lead’ him.  I also felt privileged in the spiritual, like a gift to this crazy time.  Ego I carried through confusion.  Good thing I found this place in the mountains to help pull my massive ego out of my energy field.  I still work on my ego today.  Instead of dissolving it completely however, I choose to walk with confidence in who I am while I humble myself to all of creation. 

This day turned in to a doozy.  We still assumed we only had 4 hours hiking each day.  Nope.  We walked up and over seven large ridgelines, passed a gigantic jaguar paw, and around a swath of trees blown over by a hurricane.  At this swath of land our guide got lost for the first time.  He couldn’t find the trail for about thirty minutes.  This was fine with me.  I really had to poop.  I think my poop lasted about thirty minutes.  I wasn’t quite done when the others called out and said, we’re leaving Bryan.  I hurriedly finished up.  Not sure if I was truly finished.  I pushed on anyways.  Shortly after the swath of fallen trees, another ridgeline followed.  We pushed up the ridgeline sliding on loose soil through a small tunnel of shrubs that covered our rarely walked trail.  It was no wonder Gabo got lost.  This trail would commonly be seen as a game trail in the mountains of Montana where I reside from. 

We arrived at the top of our second to last ridge.  Our destination in sight.  Still pretty far away.  I began to think we weren’t going to make it today.  The sun was much lower in the west and we moved at a snail’s pace.  If we were to race and win against the sun’s inevitable fall below the horizon, we would need to pick up speed to that of a jaguar.  That is a big leap.  Many of us struggled.  We hiked for about 12 hours already, maybe a little more.  Our only break, other than when Gabo was lost, was at Gabo’s place of birth where he hurried us to move on after about a 20-minutes for food.  Apparently we walked extraordinarily slow.  He told us this same hike had only taken him five hours by himself a few years ago.  It turns out, it is much different to hike with a bunch of audacious western tourists.

Our destination was in sight now.  Happy, but slightly wrecked.  Ryan’s knees were giving out and this next stretch down steep and loose terrain was destined to give him difficulty.  I gave him one of my knee braces.  A year ago I popped my meniscus out of place.  I had just said no to spirit at the time.  I looked at my knee popping out of place as a sign from spirit I needed to change directions.  I did.  He popped a few Advil’s that I packed and we continued.  My stomach bothered me but I felt like I could go on at the snails’ pace in which we carried ourselves.  We had already walked up and over six ridges, crossed a few small streams, walked around a swath of downed trees, and hacked our way through shrubs, vines, and thorns.  We were a little beat up and to top it off, our last stream we crossed was a while back.  Our dehydration levels were rising quickly.  Luckily, the sound of water blessed our ears halfway down the steep and slippery slope.  A couple minutes later we found a small creek.  We filled up and continued. 

The light faded quickly.  We were on the east side of the slope.  We approached our last valley between ridges.  We came to a small creek in which we refreshed ourselves quickly.  Just a slap of water in the face, a fill up for hydration, and a barefoot walk across the stream. We laced our boots and continued on.  Gabo rushed us.  He appeared nervous too.  Only he knew where we were.  We just knew it was a long day with little water while sleep started to sound like a touch of heaven.  It wasn’t time for that though.  It was time for another ridge climb through steep terrain where one might tap a tree coated with three-inch-long thorns.  Luckily, we were all aware of the three-inch-long thorn danger and to this point had avoided all hazards.  Our only issues were exhaustion, diarrhea, and knees that were giving out.  Impatience with each other started to build up as well. 

We continued up the last climb of the day.  The dark came quick and suddenly I heard Ryan yell, Gabo!.  We didn’t know where Gabo was.  Then, panic.  Gabo left us.  My thoughts, ‘go sleep by the river and follow it out the next day’.  My mind focused on sleep and survival.  I am sure we could figure it out from there.  That’s the Montana in me.  ‘If you are lost in the mountains, follow the nearest stream and you will make your way out’.  James yelled at me from behind and asked for water.  I was all out.  He then asked for granola.  That will just make you more dehydrated I said.  He didn’t care.  He wanted the granola.  I sat down and pulled the granola out of my pack.  He slowly walked up to my chosen location.  It was steep.  He towered over me as he threw handfuls of granola in his mouth like a sloppy dog trying to drink water out of a fountain.  I found myself covered in granola and stood up a little angry.  I was also exhausted.  He kind of just laughed.  Looking back on it, it was funny.  I didn’t think so in the moment.  He always had a way of pissing me off.  I don’t know why.  Maybe I was a little jealous of how free his heart seemed.  Or maybe it was because he ate granola, basically on top of me, and spewed food crumbs on to my jacket without respect to me. 

A month prior to this journey, James, Allie, and myself went to a waterfall near Finca La Palmita.  It was a beautiful day.  The sun was out, no clouds, and extreme heat.  We scurried up the creek but couldn’t quite make it to the waterfall.  We had to finish our journey on the highway.  Not the best place to walk; a narrow highway with crazy truck drivers speeding by.  The entrance was two thousand Colombian pesos.  Just under a US dollar.  We bought mandarins and walked down the short but wide path to the top of the waterfall.  James jumped in and climbed back up the cliff.  He had asked me if he could dive.  I said yes.  I didn’t give any further instructions as Allie and I chatted about something.  He tested the water with his first jump and didn’t touch the ground or any rocks.  Then, he stepped back, took a few strides toward the cliff and jumped straight up, diving within five feet of the wall.  I was a shocked.  I didn’t expect him to dive so close.  My heart skipped a beat.  It seemed like ages he was under water.  When he popped up, half of his face was covered in blood.  He started to swim towards the cliff to climb back up.  I yelled at the kayakers that practiced rescue maneuvers and first aid on the other side of the pool below.  I told James to swim to the kayakers, jumped in, and followed suit.  He started to fade.  Allie kept him awake while the lead kayaker took precautionary measures and wrapped him with a cloth.  We walked up to the road and waited for an ambulance.  It never came.  A taxi driver came instead.  He told us to wait while he lined his seats with black plastic.  A person’s life is in danger.  Do we really need the plastic???

James came out of the hospital with stitches on his head.  He blamed me for the accident as a joke.  I dove at this waterfall two years ago and it was fine.  The one thing I didn’t say was dive shallow.  I had figured that was obvious.  But it did make me feel guilty.  I held that for a short time.  In the past that would have stuck with me much longer.  I wasn’t able to hold myself very well in how I saw things.  I continue to improve this. 

The next few nights he was feverish.  I thought maybe he would die.  Thankfully, he didn’t.  In fact, he healed faster than anyone I ever met.  He was interested in the concept of the power of the mind and Reiki.  Every moment he laid in bed he focused his mind on healing.  Within a week he was walking around while we thought he should rest.  One month later he drank yagé and then a week after that he joined us on the five-day excursion through the ups and downs of the Sierra Nevada, steep enough at moments to crawl on all fours.  Now, we were in the Sierra Nevada’s and he sprayed granola all over me.  This person annoyed the shit out of me.  It was partially jealousy.  I had been broken and wandered in life.  He had found a strength within his mind to heal quickly.  Jealousy is an interesting energy wave that snuck up on me when I didn’t listen to my heart or what I wanted to do in this moment.  Not the moment tomorrow.  This moment.

We all bickered at each other with what to do.  Ryan with his belief in God was strong and said, I trust Gabo, we wait.  I said, let’s just go to the river, sleep, and follow it out tomorrow.  The sky was darkening and others had other thoughts.  These were the only two I remember.  We decided to stay and wait.  Gabo left us.  We were lost in the jungle of the Sierra Nevada’s, tired, with night falling quickly.  Snakes were abundant here and could easily kill anyone of us if the wrong species became startled.  Jaguars were also abundant and, well, that’s obvious what one of them could do.  I was lower down with a few people.  Caleb laid on the ground and said, let the jungle take me.  James, myself, and Jason said no, get up, no one will die here.  Apparently Caleb had a certain medical condition that said he shouldn’t be doing this.  He did it anyway.  It was hard for him and he struggled the most out of anyone of us.  I am impressed with how well he did after I learned about his medical condition.  This kind of exercise and stress on the body could have easily killed him. 

Whoops and yells came as we revived Caleb with encouragement.  Gabo is back!  He was lost though.  Fuck.  We all came together.  He gave us two choices.  The first choice was camp where we were.  The second was go down and camp by the creek.  Well, those are pretty much the same choice.  Except, we had hiked up this ridge for an hour and if we hiked down we would retrace our steps just to get to where we are.  Let’s stay.  We hiked down a little to find a flat spot, took our packs off, and planned.  Moe, Jason, and Gabo went down to fill our water while myself, James, and Greg started the fire.  It was much more difficult to start a fire in the jungle than I am used to.  It is much wetter here.  I have started fires in rain and snow but when I started waking up to world realities at twenty I began to have doubt about everything.  Even my basic fire skills needed to be rekindled. 

We got the fire started and warmed ourselves.  The canopy embraced us.  It felt like we were being watched.  By what, I have no idea.  Eyes seemed to be everywhere.  We continued to gather wood while River and Ryan rested in my hammock.  I let them have it.  It was a two-person hammock and the land we were on didn’t have enough space for everyone.  Jason said I could rest in his tent anyways so I put my gear in there.  Caleb and Kai also went immediately to rest.  It was much more important to rest if you needed it.  When Moe, Gabo, and Jason returned, Gabo told us to build a fire on the other side of the camp.  That sounds a little redundant.  Why? We asked.  If you don’t keep the fire going on both sides of the camp throughout the night, a jaguar may come in a eat one of you said Gabo.  That’s a good reason.  We built a fire. 

I stayed up with James and Greg for the first round of fire watchers.  An hour or so later Jason stepped out of the tent and relieved me of my duty.  I went and rested. I couldn’t rest well.  My mind raced as I thought I needed to help with the fire.  I yelled out to the group to see if they needed help.  Jason told me to rest.  He ended up being the main fire man.  I just met Jason but have gotten to know him a little over the years.  He has a strong heart and a strong will.  He was in the army at one point and studied some sort of martial art.  He is a good friend in my life and I hope to continue walking with him. 

I heard Gabo tell us to get ready.  It wasn’t quite light yet.  It may have been only about two or three in the morning.  Why not?  We just hiked up and down six ridges and couldn’t quite make it over the seventh because of exhaustion from a long treacherous day.  Most of us had four hours of sleep and some of us only had one or two hours of sleep.  Let’s continue.  This makes sense to me.  It was raining and Gabo didn’t have a cover.  Maybe that’s why we continued?  He couldn’t sleep in the rain.  Or maybe it was because it became more difficult to keep the fire going?  Either way, it was time to move.  Ryan’s knees still hurt and we needed to take it slow.  Caleb was exhausted and probably shouldn’t have hiked with us.  Kai was doing good, strong and healthy.  Maybe frustrated with others a little. Greg was doing good as well, holding himself as he usually does, poised with a strong heart.  Moe was fine.  James seemed fine.  Jason was fine.  River was fine.  Gabo was Gabo, pretty much badass.  I had stomach issues but besides that was fine.  It was time to move.  By ‘fine’, I mean exhausted and ready for a nice bed.

Last night was the first night Gabo ever slept in the jungle.  Apparently, it is not a normal thing to do.  We did it.  We packed up and climbed the mountainside.  We all had light of some sort, dotting the jungle’s floor with specks of light for the second morning in a row.  We slipped up the muddy jungle floor making sure not to