The strangest fact:

I have (had) an easier time giving 70 people different psychoactive substances, psychedelics and plant-medicines, than sitting in-front of a blank screen with a blinking curser.

Most of the ceremonies I led an average of 30 people, many of which would be brand new. Some of the bigger events would have an upwards of 70 people. Was ever nervous about “knowing what to give them”? nope.

As a matter of fact, the most people came, the more excited I got, because I knew I had no change to “think” about it or “know” for any logical reason.

I loved the unknown, I knew I was serving sprit itself. I knew I was working for the heart’s intelligence.

50 people? No problem. I “knew” and trusted to administer plant-medicine in the form of special teas, powders, all kinds of pills and capsules - none of which came with a real ingredient list - the mystery IS the sacred play.

But sitting in-front of the computer, working on my “actual'“ childhood dream of writing, feels so much harder. A 1000 times harder. Give me a room full of strangers please, please.

However, writing this now - I am starting to understand why that’s been the case, and what’s changing.

It’s all about Somebody vs Nobody.

Maybe not vs - just the relationship of Somebody with Nobody.

Let’s unpack together:

Facilitating journey after ceremony, with new people coming through the door, with plant-medicines and formulas that are truly “unknown” - requires a level of trust of a nobody.

Let me repeat, the reason I was any “good” at my Urban Shaman job is because I would let NOBODY do the medicine giving.

It was very clear that I can’t “think” of what to “give” all these people showing up. Night after night. There is no real way to know, unless you’re giving everyone the same thing and you’re just staring with low dosage.

That wasn’t my journeys. I was trained differently. We had dozens of formulas that would change every season. Our training was in a methodology that would employ the wisdom of opposite and complimentary.

Heart medicine. Mind medicine. Body medicine. Spirit medicine.

The methodology is all about tilting people back “home” - which was unique to every individual attending…. some people needed Mind with ‘lil spirit, some body with heart, and most some combination of heart in (masculine) and heart out (feminine).

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg.

The point is, there is no way to logically know or prepare for a group of people showing up for a journey - home was a brand new experience every-time.

As a a matter of fact, if I ever found myself “thinking” about it, I would have to reset my consciousness and just “listen” for what medicine I would be dishing out from the Vitamin Shoppe box.

Listen, I did have great challenges and many struggles - professionally and personally - as a facilitator and urban shaman. BUT, rarely if ever with the medicine giving / serving part.

I always love the beginning part - the start of the evening, when I would give the lecture, followed by intentions and giving the medicine.

I really really loved it - but then when the sessions got going, about an hour after giving the stuff - every clock around the room became my best friend… read that again, you’ll get it.

I remember saying to my close friends, that my favorite parts of every journey is the “Induction” - which is the lecture at the start of the evening, and when people left the next day. I could “do away” with the rest.

Even though I was fulfilling a life long dream of being serving in this capacity, I got trapped in being “somebody” - but only after the ceremony began - about 45 minutes after dosing

No doubt about it, when it came time to give each person their formula and dose, I almost never ever “toiled” with the decision. I breathe happily as I type this… nobody was in charge of giving the meds.

It was when the medicine started kicking, and I felt like I needed to “be somebody”, that’s when my troubles would begin and I would usually have to excuse myself and take a “lil something” myself. Sometimes not so little. But that’s another story for another post.

NOBODY was starting the ceremonies, and somebody would usually end them.

Ouch, I truly never realized that until this moment of writing.

No wonder I was hurting, no wonder I was usually partaking myself, no wonder I suffered deeply feeling “fake”… not because I was actually fake, but only because my ego thought he had something to do after giving the medicine, my somebody thought it needed to maintain a persona and be someone that people want to see, the one they paid to be with and learn from.

I cringe as I write this. I am agitated, my legs are tapping and my fingers keep making spelling mistakes..

If I could just let my “nobody” continue to run the show, as it did when I was giving the medicine… would I be in Israel now? Would I be writing about it or still working it.

The truth is, throughout all my trials and tribulation - what kept me “sane” (because shit got crazy) is knowing that my Nobody-Writer is taking notes…

My Nobody knew. Nobody kept running the show in the background - especially when my somebody was trying to run it.

That’s how I arrived home safely.

My nobody knew that my soul is on a Somebody Recovery journey.

My nobody has been dreaming of writing for decades, but my somebody was in charge.

I returned home to integrate, become aware of my somebodyness and let my nobody come home.

I have sat in-front of the computer to write for so many years. With such good stories, life lessons and even money in the bank.

But I did not. I could not.

My somebody was trying to write.

So I waited. and waited.

It took more than 5 freaking years, a half a million bucks, the dying of my father and even working again in high-tech - just to let my somebody become aware of nobody, so nobody can sit down and write.

When I sat down 90 minutes ago to write, I started typing without having any clue what I am about to write.

All I write is what I knew and trusted: Nobody’s Home.

Nobody IS home.