I was driving out into the Mexican desert with a shaman, and we were on our way to a peyote ceremony. We’d just eaten the peyote, and the shaman turned on the radio, and started playing The Talking Heads. He was this little indigenous dude, just banging on the steering wheel and singing along to The Talking Heads at the top of his lungs. I thought we were supposed to be contemplating life, so I said: ‘Are you sure the radio should be on right now? Is that how the ceremony is supposed to work?’ And he said: ‘This is exactly how it’s supposed to work.’ So I just shut up and rolled with it.
(from Humans of New York 2014-08-05)
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I love the blog Humans of New York, because people have so many wonderful stories. Like this one. One must wonder what kind of shaman this actually is. And am I reading this correctly, that they ate the peyote and THEN drove to the ceremonial place?
I know that there are probably quite a few people that would say that this shaman is not a proper shaman, but I want to disagree. I know nothing about him, but there is something to his style that sparks confidence.
Many think that spiritual experiences must be serious, well structured and to be quite honest, dry. We are expected to bow down and show respect and it should all be very solemn and meaningful.
But I have often found the opposite to be just as true. Spiritual experiences are crazy, out of control, screaming your lungs out, out of wack and utter nonsense. The divine wants me to dance and sweat and hurl and would often that I rather summon the gay rainbow unicorn, than the great Condor from the East.
I have full confidence in this guy’s shaman. He seems to have lost his marbles, just like the rest of the universe.
Photo: Still from the experimental film HWY An American Pastoral, produced by Jim Morrison and Paul Ferrara.by