Nothing Can Hurt You, You Are Indestructible

It was my time to die, and I was solemn and nauseated and scared. I washed in the cold creek again and again, ready to be returned to the earth sacredly. I had chosen this death, yet my heart was beating hard and fast and my guts were quaking. Shaman Ignacio came to me, smiling and good-natured as always. He said it was a perfect day to die.

Ignacio was an old man. Yet he was truly alive, awakened, and enlightened, and this made him ageless. His grace was present in every stride he took, in every gesture he made. He carried a sense of sacredness about him, even as he dealt with the mundane. His sacred presence was balanced by a sense of lightness, of good humor and ease. His power radiated from his sinewy body, an unfathomable energy. He was lean and small, yet he could lift ten times the weight I could lift, he could walk for days and not tire, and he could maintain his energy on very little food. Even the natural elements seemed to flow off of him - the rain, the wind. He seemed to glide over the forest floor. At one with his surroundings, there was an unseen communication between his body and his environment.

"You are going to die now," he said.

"Hold to the courage and trust what is in your heart. Look fear in the eye, as awesome as it may be. Nothing can hurt you, you are indestructible."

We sat by an old buttress tree, the smell of fresh rot steaming off the jungle floor nauseated me and I had to focus on my breath to regain my composure. Ignacio was as remote as a stranger. Doubt rushed into my mind, for doubt is always ready to bite, injecting its poisonous venom. I avoided the bite. I relied on my breath and a vision of light.

Ignacio made the necessary preparations. He spread a roughly woven mantle on the earth and placed a short machete and a hollowed cane on it. He then lifted the machete in his hand. "What a blessed day. It is your time to be sacrificed; your life will end now. I will slay you here under this old tree today, just as your forefather Abraham slaughtered his children, Ishmael and Isaac. Only in your death will ignorance cease."

He looked at me and his eyes were soft and remote. I knew I would trust my life to him, let him slay me. The ignorant are the walking dead, so what did I have to lose? Nothing. I rested my head on the forest floor. Ignacio lifted the machete above my head and chanted in the old language of the Uchupiamona, a tribe, now extinct, that once lived by the Tuichi River. "This knife will cut any thread of life that holds you to this plane." He laid the knife by my head and picked up the hollow cane. "This cane will connect you to the heavens above. May you travel to the light and may you be resurrected here with me again."

He poured a small amount of yellow powder into the cane, brought it to my nose, lifted my chin, pressed the end of the cane tight against my nostrils, and blew the powder into me. I was sent on a journey like an atomic explosion.

First came blazing pain and a sharp odor that burned my sinuses. Then I began to lose control, overwhelmed by nausea, fear, panic. Addicted to the familiar, all I wanted was to hold on to it. Where was Ignacio now? Suddenly I saw him approach with the machete raised in his hand, chanting. In his eyes I saw the kill. He struck me down with all his might. I felt my head fall off and roll down the roots of the tree. I was gone now, dead, my body left behind like baggage, a package of flesh, a carcass.

I was swept inside a tumbling whirlwind, moving fast towards the eye of the storm. It was sucking me in. The fear was still present. Then I saw Ignacio again, he was still, like a statue, leaning on his cane with a serene smile on his face. "Let go," he told me without opening his mouth or uttering any sound at all. "Let go, don't hold on to anything." And he disappeared. His words echoed like thunder in a canyon. There was an explosion of light, and everything became completely still in sacred silence. A new realm opened to me and I embarked.

Like stepping off the gangway of a ship after a long journey at sea, my steps were careful and measured. I was the eternal traveler, and this was my home. Everything was new, yet familiar. It all made perfect sense, no explanations were needed. I was imbued with a strong sense of belonging and understanding. The stillness was soothing. It was light, and in that light I was enlightened. No separation, no delusions, no sorrow, no stories, only pure sacred life. I was home again, where I came from and where I would return. Everything had happened already and was happening now and forever. There was no fear, no desperation, no hope, no doubt - just trust and gratitude and the light of endless love and compassion. There was no need to search; nothing had been lost. Everything was perfectly perfect.

On that forest floor I died and was born again. The light was soft, the air was warm, and the stillness transcended to this life. Every leaf was illuminated and sacred. I was back in that useless parcel, in my body, like Lazarus arisen from death. The top of my head pulsated and knowledge permeated my mind. I knew it all; I knew everything there is to know, and the light of wisdom shone through me.

Ignacio was there with a bowl of water in his hands to baptize me and to quench my thirst. His face was beaming with light and laughter and the joy of endless compassion. He brought the water to my mouth with his hands and touched my lips.

"My lips will praise and utter prayer," is the first thing I said to him.