Travellog, part 1
“Be on august 15th in Manaus. Then the powwow will begin.” That was the message I got from my guides during a meditation a few months ago. Manaus? I objected. ‘ I have never been there. I have never been in Brazil. I have never even been in South America!’ The whole idea seemed kind of silly: going into the heart of the Amazon. But I knew I had no choice. I had been postponing this journey for far too long. For 21 years to be precise.
In 2003 I had the idea to travel to South America, to visit Peru and Macchu Pichu. I had blocked two months in my agenda, but just before I left I got a phonecall. They asked if I wanted to give traumahealing to a group of young actors in Gaza. They were making theatre for young kids in schools, and although they were very professional, they were all quite traumatized. My task was to give them some emotional guidance and healing. I wasn’t a professional traumahealer, but I had seen enough in the men’s workshops that I gave for 13 years to know I could do it. Apart from that I had looked deeply into some of my own childhood traumas. I canceled my trip to South America and bought a ticket to Israel instead.
For 21 years I got deeply involved into the story of the Middle East, the story of the Palestinians and the Israelis, of the war and of the desperate need to bring healing and reconciliation. Since October 7th that seemed all to come to a tragic end.
But since the last few years the call for South America got stronger and stronger again. Sometimes it seemed like shamans were hacking my brain and shouting to come. I was hesitant, unwilling, and to be honest, just afraid. Something was waiting there for me, but I couldn’t understand logically what that was.
Just before leaving the fear became stronger and stronger. I had nightmares, and a deep ball of panic inside my stomach. I had bought a ticket to Belem, the entrance to the Amazon, to fly from there to Manaus, so I would be there on the 15th of August. Luckily I wasn’t traveling alone. Eran, a dear friend from Israel, had decided to join me. “I have no clue whatsoever what we are supposed to do there, I told him. I have never been there, and the place doesn’t even seem attractive.”
I had spoken to my brother on the phone, and he warned me for all kinds of dangers. He knew the Amazon and south America and was aware of all the hazards. ‘There are all kinds of animals that want to eat you”, He said. “The rivers are full of piranhas, the air is full of mosquitos, and there are little fish who will swim into your anus. And on top of that: there is a lot of violence and robbery.” The whole idea of traveling to Manaus seemed less and less of a good plan.
Eran was still in Jerusalem and it wasn’t yet certain if he could leave the country. Iran was threatening to strike and most airlines had already cancelled all flights. Only El Al was still flying. Yesterday he send me the message: “I have arrived in Madrid.” From there he flew to Lisbon, where we would meet up in the airport to fly to Belem.
The closer the time of departure, the more uncomfortable I felt. It was as if I almost dissociated from my body. I had a dream that I was sailing on an old sailing ship towards the Americas, as if I was remembering a former life. Had I been there before?
I visited the church of the Templars innTomar and wondered what there plan was when they sailed out to conquer the world. Tomar, where Anne and me are living, was the headquarters for all their seafaring adventures. They had gathered the maps and instruments to sail the world. One instrument in particular, xxxxx, you can see everywhere in Tomar: on the churches, in the castle, on top of houses and on towers. It seemed to be magical tool to define where you were during a trip at sea.
To kill the time before leaving – and to quench my fear – I started watching the whole series of Planet of the Apes. Especially the first movie inspired me. It told the story of a man-made virus that had accidentally escaped a laboratory and infected both men and apes. Mankind got almost exterminated, but apes became smarter. They could start to speak and gained intelligence.
While watching the movies I remembered the many hours of monkey roleplaying I had done while in the theatre, long time ago. I looked in the mirror and was struck at how similar we actually are. We may have brains and clothes and intellect, but physically we are not that far apart from chimpansees. When I was once in the rainforest in Rwanda I could feel the strong connection between man and apes. I deeply understood they were our ancestors, and that we made another leap in evolution. However, as intelligent as we had become, we were yet unwise in destroying our own habitat: our planet earth. The message of the apes in Rwanda was powerful: we had to become more humble and remember where we were coming from. We had to leave our hubris behind if we wanted to survive at all.
And here I was, on another trip deep into a rainforest. To meet some part of myself, or possibly to understand something about the next step for humankind. I had no clue. The only thing I knew was that I had to go.
And so here I am, hanging thousands of feet above the Atlantic ocean, halfway between Lisbon and Belem. This seemed a journey long time in the making. The last few years I already made the preliminary steps, together with Anne: first to Portugal, then to the Azores, and now one step further, across the Atlantic Ocean.
There was another message from my guides: “Start writing a travel-log, involve others into the journey.” So, this said: you are invited to the journey. Do share your insights or suggestions. Where it will lead I don’t know, but I hope that together we will find our way into the woods, into the Unknown….
Travellog , part 2
During the flight from Lisbon to Belem I happen to see the newest movie of Planet of the Apes. It is unfortunately -like most sequels – more of the same, but one thing strikes me. There is an ape who has a mantle of feathers. He is like the shaman of the tribe and he works with eagles and birds. Somehow that resonates, because since I left I saw everywhere feathers on my path. It seems the shamans are calling…
When we fly over the last stretch to reach Belem I see a pitchdark sea of wood beneath me. We land on a rather small airport in the middle of the jungle. The heat, the smell and the humidity completely surround us. It is some 30 degrees here, also at night. When we take a taxi towards our hostel – casa Amazonia – it feels like we have landed on Pandora, the planet of Avatar. The jungle feels very alive, but also dangerous. It is a whole new world to me, as I am much more used to go to the dry lands in the Middle East. Something is waiting here, but I don’t know what…
The next day Eran and me explore the city of Belem. We have been told we cannot walk outside when it is dark, but during the day it is fine. The city is very different than what I expected: it is wild, rough, broken – at some places nature takes over, but at the same time sweet, innocent, beautiful. Eran mentions how difficult it is in the beginning to loose our western mindframe. We see everything through our western eyes, judging, labeling, thinking, but somehow we are invited to open up to a whole other reality. We are definitely the minority here. There are almost no tourists, and the population is a mixture of all races: black, red, yellow, and white. Big black vultures circle above in the sky.
We end up in a restaurant next to the waterfront where most of the rich people come to have lunch. The fish we get leaves us speechless. It is baked with banana and tomatoes, and is exquisite. Eran tells about a podcast he has seen in which the relationship is explained between the things we eat and the way we think. Every nation or people develop a certain consciousness according to the food they eat.
Our first day here we fill our tummy with coconutdrink, papaya, melon, acai, banana and fish. Definitely Pandora food. And with the heat everywhere it feels we develop a whole new body. We need a new avatar to cope with this other world. Less thinking, more perceiving.
In a little zoo at the waterfront we see all kinds of birds: parrots, flamingo’s, ibis, and all sorts that I don’t know by name. The funny thing is: they are not in cages, they are just all around us, as if we are part of the ZOO as well. In the middle of the birdparc there is a high tower. We take an elevator and suddenly we have a birds-eye view over the city. It is much bigger than we thought. It looks a bit like Manhattan: skyscrapers and riversides in the middle of an island in the water.
When we go home to our Casa Amazonia I fall asleep and have visionary dreams. I see the whole Amazon as a tree of life, with the sources of the river as the highest branches, originating in the Andes. We are at its root, where the river enters the ocean. It all resembles the kabbalah, which means the Andes is Keter, the crown, and we are at Malkuth, the roots. Malkuth symbols the hidden feminine, the Shehinah.
In my dreams I go deeper and deeper into the darkness of the Shechinah. It feels like there is some hidden treasure here, but I have to dive really deep. When I reach the bottom, I see thousands of eyes looking at me. They are the souls of the many slaves that once came here. They ask me to take them on our journey to the heart of the rainforest: Manaus. They give me a stone to remember my mission. It has a spiral on it, leading to the heart…
When I finally wake up I’m sweating all over and have a hard time regaining normal consciousness. It feels like I have been roaming around in the collective unconsciousness, and sometimes that takes a lot of energy. I feel drained and need food.
I remember the connection between food and consciousness and wonder if the trip I made during sleep had anything to do with what we ate. I think we don’t need an Ahayauasca ceremony on our journey through the Amazon. The journey itself is the ‘trip’.
Travellog , part 3
When we try to organise our trip further into the Amazon, we get stuck. Prices for airline tickets have suddenly gone up three times, the boat doesn’t have places anymore and we start to question if it is really necessary to be in Manaus on august 15.
Apart from the logistical problems we get stuck in our minds. We try all kinds of solutions, searching frantically on the internet, but the more we try to entangle the ball the more stuck we get. We end up having one ticket for Eran, and no place on the boat before aug. 15th.
Finally we decide to surrender, go for a walk and have some dinner. Both of us realize we have to find another way. I ask the spirits of slaves that I saw in my vision for help. They gave me the green spiral stone to bring to Manaus, but without their help we won’t manage.
Eran finds another way of asking for help. He calls the manager of the boat company. ‘Do you want a hammock or a cabin?’ He replies.
When we wake up the next morning everything is settled. We take a flight early morning towards Santarem, the next big city on the Amazon, and from there we have a boat that takes us in 42 hours towards Manaus. Arrival in the morning of august 15.
The name Manaus means ‘Mother of the Gods’ and somehow our journey as two men is to honour the divine feminine, symbolized by this huge river running through the Amazon rainforest. We travel towards the center of the Amazon, the heart of the goddess, arriving on the main christian feast day of Mother Mary.
Now there is something peculiar with the names of the cities on the river.
They seem to mirror the cities along the river Taje in Portugal. Belem is the point in Lisbon where the ships left the harbor and started their journey over the Atlantic. A little inland into Portugal is the city of Santarem. Further down is the city of Tomar, the heart of the kabbalah.
In Brazil the same occurs: the city of Belem is on the coast, further down the river is the Brazilian city of Santarem, and Manaus mirrors Tomar.
The name Santarem comes from the legend of Santa Iria, a young celtic maiden who lived in Tomar and converted to Christianity. She became the patroness of Portugal, but her story is really sad. She falls in love with a young nobleman, Britaldo, but tells him she is not available for marriage, nor for a love affair. He accepts her choice, but another man also desires her: the monk Remigio. He gives Iria a drink that makes her look pregnant. When Britaldo sees his love with a big pregnant belly, he becomes furious with jealousy and murders her. He throws her into the river and her body is found at a place that is later called Santarem.
Somehow I think the ‘drink that made Iria look pregnant’ is an euphemism for ‘rape’. Probably the monk had sexually abused the young girl. later on the church put her onto a pedestal as a saint. The Portuguese legend is quite symbolic for the way the church deals with the feminine, the same way they dealt with Mary Magdalene, Jeanne d’Arc, Esmeralda and so many others. Many men want her, but they end up killing her, raping her, or putting her at the stake.
Somehow it seems we act the same way with Mother Earth. We take, rape or abuse her, instead of honoring her. Maybe it is time that we as men change our way of dealing with the feminine. Could that be the reason for our journey into the heart of the Amazon?
One of the original reasons we travel to Belem is the fact that next year, november 2025, the next Climate Conference, COP30, will be held in this city at the entrance of the Amazon. It might be the perfect opportunity to change the way we deal with nature: not by abusing it, analyzing it, creating CO2 programs or inventing other technological solutions, but first to listen to it with our hearts..opening up to her message, listening to her call. Honoring her as our Mother. Realizing we are part of her, not above her.
After 29 Climate Conferences it definitely feels time to take another approach: more from the heart and less from the mind. In 2021 we organized a world wide meditation paralel to the COP in Scotland and in 2022 we invited 1000 women to connect to the COP in Sinai. Maybe it is time for a next step?
When Eran and me visit the Governor Tourist Office to ask about the COP and see if we can contribute in any way the man behind the desk is clearly unwilling to help us. The door is closed. We will have to find another way in…
We go to our favorite cafe in the parc for our last evening in Belem, and a magical evening unveils itself. Many couples and friends come to the cafe to have a drink and a meal, a young man plays on a guitar, and soon enough a beautiful atmosphere of love and joy starts. It seems we passed the first test. Tomorrow morning we will start the second…
Travellog , part 4
In my high school years I read a book called ‘Skyhigh and Milesdeep’ (Torenhoog en mijlenbreed) a science fiction novel about Edu, a young man who is stationed at the planet Venus. On this planet are woods that are endless, fiery, moveable and they destroy all equipment, clothes and material that enters it. It is forbidden to go into the woods and scientists study it from a distance. But Edu feels strongly drawn towards them, and one day he enters. When his suit and helmet gets disintegrated he looses consciousness, but some time later he wakes up naked.
He meets a little creature from the woods called Firth, who has rescued him. It seems he can breath and walk through the woods as long as he is naked or covered with leaves. Later on in the story he discovers that the creatures communicate with each other through telepathy.
The story has always intrigued me, and when we enter the Amazon by boat, I am reminded again of this tale. The forest seem to be full of life, full of consciousness. You can’t go in with western equipment: you have to become naked and let go of your western worldview. The Amazon is like this enormous River of Life, huge in size and scope, with its own laws.
I start to wonder why we are always afraid that the rainforest disappears, because I am just naively overwhelmed by the sheer vastness of it.
After two days on the ferry I understand why it is called the Rainforest. There is endless forest and lots of rain.
Eran and me are the only two tourists on the ferry. All the rest are locals that travel between Santarem and Manaus. They all sleep in their own hammocks that are tied to the ceiling of the boat. Eran and me have a ‘luxury’ cabin. It has its own bathroom and airco. At certain times a lady with a bell passes, to announce that there is breakfast or dinner.
In the cargo of the boat are 1500 boxes of tomatoes. They had to be loaded onto the ferry just before we left. It took 3,5 hours before all the boxes were loaded into the boat and we could finally leave. Time seems to be of no importance. ‘Don’t worry,’ a friend from Holland wrote, ‘You’ll ketch up.’
After a couple of hours on the boat we start to loose all sense of time, direction, and meaning. There is only the broad and endless Amazon river, two shores with forests, and the motor of the boat gently roaring.
When I wake up in the night of the sound of the motor – we seem to stop at another harbour – I remember a dream of my time in high school. I suddenly remember all of my classmates, events that happened, my teachers, my first schoolplay, my thesis that became exemplary for the years after, and my steps from childhood to adolescence. During the night I see the first part of my life passing in front of me, and I understand why the Amazon is seen as a ‘river of life’. It shows life beyond time and space. The indigenous see the river as a living organism, a sacred entity. And it probably is.
Looking at my years in highschool I realize I’ve always stepped outside of the box to find my way. I didn’t particularly fit in, and to discover who I was I had to sidestep the normal boundaries, again and again. I stepped out of university, out of the church, out of my culture, my family, out of the army, and eventually out of my country. It wasn’t that I disliked where I was, it just didn’t work for me. I had to find another way, just like Edu in the novel. He discovers telepathy, like I discovered channeling.
Each time you step into the unknown you start to question yourself, – am I crazy, weird, or just plain wrong? – until you find people or cultures who are exactly the same. And you come to the conclusion it isn’t so weird after all.
Here in the Amazon I start to question all of my western presumptions and perspectives. It is literally as if I see the world from another side. Even the sun here seems to move in another direction, just like the stars. The nightsky is completely different from the one I know. Here I can see the signs of Scorpio, Dolphinus, Ophioucus, Cygnus and Centaurus. They seem to tell another story.
When I think of the Climate Conference next year in Belem it seems absurd, a western man-made fabrication to think our way out of the environmental quackmire we have created for ourselves. We need not only change our way of thinking, we need to rethink who we are. Our identification with the mind is so limited and narrow. We are part of a huge, living organism, and we don’t even realize it. We think we are individuals, acting rationally, but that is far from the truth. Life is happening to us, and to think we are in control is just an illusion. We need to learn to ‘go with the flow’, to let ourselves be guided by the vast undercurrents of life that take us in a certain direction, instead of trying to make things happen.
We have to learn to cooperate with the spirit, and with nature. They will be able to teach us what is right and what is wrong.
If we are only willing to listen…
Travellog , part 5
It seems that during my life I’ve been traveling clockwise around the wheel of life. That started by traveling west. First I was called to go to Glastonbury, where I happened to be during the Harmonic Convergence of august 18th and 19th, 1987. Seven stars were aligned in the sign of Leo. It propelled me to leave university, and travel towards the United States, where I encountered the Hopi and Jaqui indians. And where I met Robert Bly, initiator of the men’s work.
During the nineties I started traveling east, towards Hungary, Russia, Siberia and Altai. It all converged towards the powerful sun eclips of august 1999, predicted by Nostradamus. I was with a group of men at the sacred mountain Belucha, on the border of Siberia and Mongolia. It is the area of the black shamans, and I learned a lot about shadowwork, dark energies and how to heal or counter them.
In the first two decennia after the millennium I started traveling and working in the Middle East, as well as traveling more south along the river Nile: towards Egypt, Sudan, Ethiopia and finally to the source of the Nile: Rwanda.
2012 was a major point in time. It was the year zero in the maya calendar, heralded by the Mayans 26 years before, during the Harmonic convergence. I started to realise my life was entwined with the great transformation of our time: going from the age of Pisces towards the age of Aquarius. The Mayan calendar, based on cycles of 13 years, predicted precisely the changes we would go through. The next pivotal moment in time is coming year, 2025, 13 years after 2012.
After Corona I started traveling with Anne from Belgium, along the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, through Bretagne in France, Asturias and Galicia in northern Spain, towards Portugal. From there on it became clear we had to move further south west: towards the Azores. There the next step became clear: South America, following the Amazon river. Although the journey is made in several phases, it all seems part of a much larger quest through life, a journey through time and space. In total I travelled to some 35 countries and numerous sacred sites. They all seem to tell a story about the sacredness of life, about the next step of evolution and the need for us to change gears. If we go on in the direction we’ve been heading, we’ll certainly end up in major disasters. But how do we change course? How do we listen to the compass of the heart, instead of following the chatter of the mind?
‘The way is made by walking,’ a proverb says. But we need to have the courage to leave our comfortzone, to break out of the cage – the cage of work, money, science, social behavior, nationalistic tendencies and other things that entrap us.
Eran has brought one book, and it happens to be Iron John by Robert Bly. We both take turns reading it, and after some 30 years it hasn’t lost any power or relevance. We talk about the need for men to step away from the old boys games, be it in sports, money, politics or economics. It seems we are endlessly repeating the same old patterns, not being able to grow from boys into men. We behave like irresponsible kids, and don’t have the tools or initiation to step out of it. I think of Elon Musk, or Trump or Netanyahu, who are unable to see their own shadow. They act for the greater good but don’t see they are actually part of the problem. I’m afraid many men are, and maybe we as well.
We talk about the chapter in the book about sacred warriorhood, the talent of men to discriminate between good and evil, between truth and bullshit, to be able to hold a sword and to use it, not to kill, but to cut away the debris of our own ego. How can we regain our strength and power, without falling into the pitfall of guilt: ‘yes, blame it all on us.” We have to take responsibility for the world we created, but not to be suffocated with shame and guilt, but to become healthy warriors, able to act when needed.
I’m reminded that right after the climate conference in the Sinai there was a Worldcup in Qatar. I estimate that the costs and attention that men put into the latter was twenty or forty times more than the COP. Probably we are more inclined to be entertained, to take sides and decide who needs to win or loose, instead of being involved in a much wider, tougher and more serious ‘game’: the game of our survival as a species. When men can’t distinguish anymore between entertainment and what’s at stake, we are in serious trouble. The same is true for men in stockmarkets, in Big Pharma, in Big Data, in Big War industry etc. The war industry is currently booming business. Somehow we don’t want to take responsibility for the effects that we put our energy in. We just think about the profits. It would be great if we could harness the energy and enthusiasm of football – or war – and use it to a greater cause.
Somehow the key to our collective survival is in the hands of men. We have to switch to another game, from a boys game to a men’s game. By doing this we regain our pride, our joy and our splendor.
The third day on the boat we arrive at Manaus. It is the 15th of august. The weather is beautiful. Not too hot, nor too cold. We are completely mellowed by the long journey. We’ve made nice connections with the people on the boat: the friendly captain, the woman who sells breakfast and dinner, the lady of the cafe, several kids, Manuel the truck driver, and many others. We are ready for the next step.
Travellog , part 6
The night before we arrive Eran and me have a talk on the boat, discussing our purpose in life. Suddenly a bat flies in front of us, keeps hovering just before our eyes and then flies to the front of the ship. We are both startled. It seems clear the bat comes to bring a message. In American Indian traditions the bat symbolizes death and rebirth, and the shaman’s death: the dark night of the soul.
The next morning we discuss, as often, the situation in Gaza and Israel. We both feel the grief and the loss of what is going on. It seems the magnitude of the destruction and suffering brings both sides to the edge of the abyss. The downfall seems unavoidable.
While we are in Manaus the theme of death seems to accompany us. The city is rough and sticky and has long lost its splendor, if there ever was one. Many people are poor and there seems to be a lot of prostitution, criminality, drugs and alcohol. This is all mingled with jungle tours for tourists, Ahayuasca sessions for €300 per night, and the whole town of 2 million people in the middle of the jungle looks like a big orgiastic, colourful, and sticky melting pot. On the news I read about a new virus going around, called Monkeypox. It seems the city reflects the insanity of the world. We go from plaque to plaque, without learning anything.
When we visit the ancient sacred place of Manaus – where the ‘Mother of the Gods’ probably used to be honored by the indigenous tribes – we find a rather ugly, heavy catholic church. Next to it is an ancient tree, and it is the only thing that gives some relief. Here we do a meditation.
Our hostel is really nice, but when the night falls the whole thing turns into a nightmare. There is a Karaoke bar at the other side of the street, the airco is killing my lungs, and I sink deeper and deeper into the quakmire of this dark city. The music, the drunken voices of the karaoke, the heat and the airco all merge into a caleidoscope of the apocalyps. I see the Mother of the Gods being abused, raped and tortured by western powers, the church, multinationals and other powers that have an interest in making money out of the Amazon. I see how all the people of the town are somehow sacrificed for these purposes.
When my breathing gets too difficult, I suddenly remember Edu in the woods of Venus, and realise I have to get rid of everything artificial. I take my cotton blanket from Ethiopia, go outside and lay down on the couch in the garden. Finally I get some fresh, natural air. After a while I almost lay naked and I can breathe again. The air of the night is soothing me.
Then I recall that I had to give the green sacred stone to the goddess, and I bow down to the Mother of the Gods. I give her the stone, and she resumer her original form. She puts her head on my chest, and suddenly becomes older and older, till she is an ancient woman and dies peacefully. Maybe this is what we came to do here.
It is good to read all the messages from friends at home. I listen to some astrological reports and they all seem to say the same: it is an intense time of death, letting go, decay and the need to move to the next phase. The full moon of august 19 is the apex of all these complex and disturbing energies. So we still have a few days to go. Time to go into the jungle…
Travellog , part 7
If the masculine way of traveling is from A to B, the feminine way is to move around in spirals, like a labyrinth. You go two steps forward, three steps back, moving in and out, slowly approaching the heart of the labyrinth. It seems like a much slower and more complicated way of traveling, but in the end more rewarding and richer. While the masculine approach goes faster, it sometimes misses the point. It is not about reaching the destination, but it is all about the journey.
Somehow Eran and me travel the second path, surrendering to the unknown, surrendering to the slow pace, accepting the three steps back.
After my dark night in the hostel in Manaus, the situation suddenly changes 180 degrees. We seemed to have passed the gate and move two steps up. The solution shows itself: we move to another hostel, Hostel Manaus, a 10 minutes walk further, and we arrive in a beautiful, tranquil and harmonious paradise. The hostel is mainly built with wood, and is open on many sides. It invites the rainforest in by decorating all walls with paintings of the rainforest animals: parrots, jaguars, pink dolphins, snakes, tukans, fish, and all kind of others. When we go out into town that evening we arrive at a square where there is a cultural festival around a theatre, and the many colors that first seemed only chaotic and apocalyptic transform into a multi-colored experience of music, art, good food and culture.
After having given the green heart stone to the ancient Mother-goddess, she shows a complete other side of Her. Bountiful, colorful and nourishing.
The hostel also provides tours into the jungle, and after we read the good reviews we decide to go on a 4 day jungle tour. After all the preparation it is time to dive into the heart of it: entering the Amazon.
I get a channeling that helps us understand what awaits us:
“When you enter the gate of life, you symbolically enter the yoni of the goddess. It demands for you to surrender, to bow your head, to ask permission, to go down on your knees, to enter the temple. Here the temple is not a church, or a building or a pyramid, but it is the jungle itself. It is the temple of life. It is the physical manifestation of the goddess through which all life comes into existence. She represents the River of Life, the Tree of Life, the Gate of Life.
Especially for men it is difficult to receiver her blessing, because most of you are inclined to be in control, to know it all, to perceive life through the rational mind, but by re-entering the yoni you will have to leave all concepts and theories behind to receive the mystery of life itself. To know you are not the creator, but the created, not the one who’s in control, but the one who is guided like a child towards the greater mystery.
When you enter the jungle leave behind your old concepts, leave behind your old life, let go of your presumptions and expectations and just be aware. Open up to the fullness of the experience, to whatever comes your wat, be it small or big. You are not in control, life is. Enjoy it to the utmost. Because the goddess is not only demands humility, but She also gives blissful joy.”
Travellog , part 8
The Mother-goddess in Brazilian culture is called Yemanja or Yemọja. She is a waterspirit, goddess of the rivers and the water. She is the Queen of the Ocean, the patron spirit of the fishermen and the survivors of shipwrecks, the feminine principle of creation, and the spirit of moonlight. She is the mother of the seven Orishas, or gods, and she is also the mother of humanity. The Portuguese Catholic church tried to incorporate her and named her Notre Signora de Conceiçao, our lady of birth. The church in Manaus near the river is obviously built on a sacred place dedicated to her in former times. No mention is made of it in history, because the victorious seldom like to be reminded of those they conquered.
Yemanja is often depicted as a blue and silver colored mermaid, wearing shells and seastones, and she is associated with the feminine mysteries and the moon. She is the protector of women. She governs everything pertaining to women; parenting, children, love, and healing. According to myth, when her waters broke, it caused a great flood creating rivers and streams and the first mortal humans were created from her womb.
She is benevolent and nourishing, but she can also be fierce and destructive in the form of storms, floods and disasters. In these times I guess we’ll see her dark and somber mood more and more. A friend sent me a mail about plans for a new goldmine in the Amazon, at the expense of the local tribe living there. Big corporations are still willing to plunder everything they see to make money. It is our hubris and greed that is destroying our environment. We have forgotten to listen to Yemanja, to whisper her name and to dedicate our prayers and offerings to her.
She is more than willing to grant us anything of her abundance and riches, if only we could let go of our egoistic behavior.
The journey of Eran and me leads us into the jungle today. After a trip by car of 2 hours and a short boat trip on the Urubu river, we arrive at Cumaru lodge. It is built on a hill overlooking the river. We get lunch and a cabin, and the whole place is incredibly well organized. Two other groups are already there: an Italian family, a german guy, a french group and a young english woman called Katherine. It feels like all of western colonial Europe has gathered here to get a taste of the Amazon.
The name of our lodge, Cumaru, comes from the Cumaru tree, one of the giants of the rainforest. It can become 1200 years old, is known for its medicinal qualities and perfume, and is popularly known as the “sorcerers tree”. For many years the cumaru was mainly used for its timber. Each tree would resound thunderously through the jungle when it was felled. Its sturdy wood, known in English as Brazilian teak, has been used for centuries form making furnitures, ships and other durable items.
When the whole bunch of tourists go for a fishing trip of Piranhas, I decide to stay behind and enjoy the silence of the Amazon. I take a swim in the river, do some yoga on a platform on the water, and remember my yogateacher Anat who came from Brazil. Although she has died a couple of years ago she is still very present with me. Whenever I do yoga I can hear her voice. Somehow she resembled Yemanja for me, this wise and powerful voice of the feminine, not teaching through words or concepts, but through a living presence. She was one of the reasons I was called to come to Brazil, and everywhere I can see elements that remind me of her.
Travellog, part 9
At night Eran and me are sitting on a deck overlooking the river and the nightsky. The moon is growing rapidly to a full moon, and the light is reflected in the silent water. The sky is full of stars and the sounds of the Amazon have started right after sunset. We hear frogs, lizards, birds and other creatures. It seems the forest is brewing with life at night.
‘I’m reminded of the scene from the Lion King,’ Eran muses. ‘You know, when Simba looks at the stars and sees his father, telling him: “Remember who you are. You are more than what you have become. You are my son and the only true king. You have to take your place in the circle of life. Remember who you are… “
We stare into the distance. There is magic in the air, just like in the movie. We decide to do our daily meditation. When I close my eyes something strange happens. I can still see the Amazon, but not with my eyes. It feels as if I am looking with my reptilian brain. I see all kinds of energy and colors. I look through the eyes of animals, jaguars, reptilians and trees. The whole forest is alive and I understand how animals are perceiving the world in the dark.
Then my attention is drawn to a particular place farther away where the energy is much stronger. It forms a large column or vortex into the nightsky, a sort of energetic tree towards the heavens. It is full of energy and fertility and contains the blueprint of every living being on earth. It also contains a library of medicine for any illness.
I decide to ask what I can do about my lungs. The answer is immediately there. My lungs are still full of mucus from the corona, and I have to dry them by ‘smoking’ during a period of six months so they become dry.
I decide to ask as well about the monkey pox. It worries me that we have another possible pandemic coming up. I think about the first ‘Planet of the Apes’ movie, where a virus was incidentally released from a lab and killed millions of people.
The way we mess with nature seems to backlash at us. In 2014, during the Obama administration, there was a moratorium on the research and upgrading of viruses, the so called gain-of-function research. The reason: experts realized it was way too dangerous. What would happen if one of these upgraded viruses would escape the lab, just like in the movie?
The result of that decision was startling. All big pharmaceutical companies, starting with Pfizer, decided to move their gain-of-function research to a place where it was still allowed: Wuhan in China. Other companies like Dupont, Fresenius Kabi, Thermo Fisher, Honeywell and others followed and settled in an industrial area for pharmaceutical development, called Wuhan Biolake. There they could experiment further in cooperation with the Wuhan Institute of Virology. They upgraded many bat-viruses and made them more adaptable to human beings. In 2015 they created their first hybrid virus, in cooperation with the Erasmus university of Rotterdam.
When the corona pandemic started all scientists, media and Chinese officials were adamant that the virus was coming from nature through a zoönose, a transition animal, and that it certainly couldn’t come from the lab. Doctors and virologists that claimed otherwise were ridiculed, or silenced. Or worse: they disappeared. The zoönose has never been found, the records of the lab were mysteriously gone and no serious research has ever been done in the Wuhan lab. Which means we’ll probably never know how the virus came into existence …
Gain-of-function research is still going on worldwide, and it shows how we are completely unwilling to face the possible consequences of our actions. Science has seemed to become a dogma that doesn’t allow serious questioning anymore. We’ve lost the sacredness of life. It will only be a matter of time before we have the next pandemic or plaque, telling us that we need to reevaluate the way we deal with nature.
Here, being in the jungle, it all makes much more sense. If we work together in harmony with nature – with the heat, the animals, the water, the air – it feels so much more natural. But also challenging. Are we able to let go of our comfort ?
To be honest, our rainforest camp is the most luxurious we could think of. There are no mosquitos, it is all well organized, the water of the river is soft and safe (except for the baby crocodiles and a ten meter long Anaconda that is supposed to live here) and we enjoy a really relaxing time along the river Urubu.
But tonight we will walk into the rainforest to have a night out, sleeping in a hammock under the stars and the full moon, listening to the sounds of animals and eating at a campfire. I wonder if we still like it then?
Travellog , part 10
Our night in the jungle is guided by Chris, a Brazilian man from Peruvian descent. He knows everything about the jungle and will lead us towards the camp in the forest. Our company consists of five people: Chris walks in front, then me, then Katherine from the UK, then Eran, and last in line is Ismael, a young man from the lodge.
While we walk deeper into the jungle my thoughts go everywhere. After fifteen minutes I assume it isn’t so much different from a walk in the woods in the Netherlands, or lets say the Zoniënwoud near Brussels, or- if you want to include the heat – a walk in the Hortus Botanicus in Amsterdam. Nothing specific happens, but just at that moment Chris stops abruptly and I almost bump into him. He listen to the sounds and points to the trees: ‘Monkeys.’ We see trees and leaves moving. ‘Cappuccino-monkeys,’ he whispers. Ironically that word brings me back to Amsterdam. Funny how your mind always want to hold on to something familiar. Here it seems we have to let go of everything known. Part of my initiation today was to leave my wallet, my phone and my passport behind. They are of no use in the forest.
We walk on and after one hour we are thoroughly sweating. A half hour later we reach our camp. It is at an open place in the woods, near a small creek, surrounded by tall trees, palmleaves and jungle-vines. Eran immediately dips into the clear water of the creek.
Chris explains us how to fix our hammocks, and sets out to make dinner. He chops wood, makes spoons, hangs a pot of water to boil over the fire, and prepares the fish he brought. Both of them, Chris and Ismael, are extremely effective and well organized. Soon it will get dark and we won’t be able to do so much.
Till now the experience is all quite gentle, and the forest seems kind enough. But just before sleeping one of us erroneously asks Chris about snakes. His face changes. ‘There are lots of snakes here. They can be very deadly. You have the viper, the python and the cobra. Some cobras fall from the trees, and some crawl on the ground. And then you have the Sucuri. It is the indigenous name for Anaconda. They can become 6 to 11 meter long. It is not poisonous, but it will strangle you. It eats little animals, like deer and small pigs. (You call those small animals?’ I think)
‘How do you recognize it?’ Eran asks.
‘You won’t recognize it. It has camouflage,’ Chris responds. ‘But it only attacks when it is hungry.’
Suddenly my view of our jungle-light-tour takes on a whole different perspective, especially since we are just going to sleep. Cobras falling from the trees and Anacondas trying to strangle you? This is definitely not the Amsterdam Hortus anymore. The sounds of the jungle and the full moon rising give it all another, more intense, dimension.
As soon as I am in my hammock I can’t stop thinking about snakes, wondering if I’ll meet one. Part of me is scared shitless, the other part is intrigued. I have a strange relationship with snakes, maybe because according to Chinese astrology I am one. Two times before I had snakes on my body, but those weren’t hungry nor poisonous. Once a participant of our group in Jericho was bitten by a desert viper, and Anne and me spontaneously started a healing ritual, till she regained consciousness and the ambulance came. In the end it took a week in the hospital before she was recovered. They were just in time to give her the antidote. But to travel here from the jungle to the hospital will take way too long….
Eran and me both have our dive into the darkness of the night and into our own inner jungle. When we share about it the next day it has all to do with power, sexuality, shame and other deep unconscious themes. They are all related to the archetype of the snake. It feels quite vulnerable, and yet healing and powerful. The jungle has given us the medicine we needed in this full moon night.
We realize how difficult it is for men to descend into this pit of darkness. Most men avoid to go this downward way: they rather go up, make careers, be string and successful, have power over others or start wars, while deep down they are afraid of their own inner monsters.
When we return to our basecamp, Chris invites Eran and me on a boat-trip on the Urubu, to see the ‘floating woods’: woods that are halfway under water. When we are deep in this spooky waterjungle he whispers: ‘I will paddle alone here. Be very quiet. This is the home of the Anaconda.’
While keeping our breath we slide through the woods. Somehow I am not afraid anymore, rather curious and compassionate towards this huge powerful snake. It feels like I’ve met my totem-animal…
We don’t see the Anaconda, but instead we meet two grey dolphins on the way back.
Travellog , part 11
Last night the dark goddess showed her face in a dream, with fiery and piercing eyes. She pointed on the map to a place west of Manaus in the direction of Iquitos in Peru. ‘There is a rubber museum there, where you need to do healing work.’ In the next image in the dream I see many men lined up against a wall, ready to be executed. There is lot of pain from the slave-trade. The black pirate from Asterix is beating the drums. I wake up from the dream and realize this is a clear call of duty for our last day in the Amazon.
When Eran and me search on the interent there seems to be a Rubbermuseum along the Rio Negro, indeed west of Manaus. We decide to leave our paradise in the jungle and go back to the hostel in city. From the purity of nature back to the sweaty town. The difference can’t be bigger. But also here adventure awaits: during our outdoor dinner two almost naked dancers, beautifully adorned with blue feathers, dance right in front of our table. So also here is beauty and love and connection to spirit.
The symbol of the blue feather is already with us from the beginning of the journey. It reminds me of a vision of a parrot that I saw a year ago. It invited me to go on the journey to the Amazon. When coming to Brazil I thought of buying a blue feather to hang around my neck, but somehow the right feather didn’t show up. Only during our last visit to the floating woods I find a large dark blue feather in the water, close to the home of the Anaconda. When I reflect on it I suddenly realize the connection between the snake and the feather. It refers to the famous ‘feathered snake’ in south American mythology, Kukulkan.
The next day we take the boat to the Rubber museum, along the shore of the river. It is actually built for a Portuguese movie, called ‘The jungle’. It plays in the 18th century during the rubber boom. Behind the romance in the jungle is a whole different story, much more tragic and painful than we know. As I have experienced before the Portuguese are not very good in acknowledging their past colonial history. They rather stay silent about it. On internet I can hardly find any information. Most pieces of the puzzle come quite accidentally to me. I discover that Manaus was already a place of civilization long before the Portuguese came, dating back to 12.000 BC. They called the rainforest the Amazon because they were attacked by women indigenous warriors, thus the name Amazonas. It seems the name originates from the deeply ingrained fear of men for women power… The indigenous people had a different name: Amaru Mayu, or The Mother Serpent of the World.
The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. The Amazon is the biggest area in the world that consists of a vast network of forest, water and rivers. It is isn’t only ‘one’ river, It is a network of rivers, an organism, a Tree of Life with roots and branches, a vast library of medicine and healing. Just as the Himalaya’s seem to be the Father of the World, this enormous organism seems to be the Mother of the World, symbolically represented by the snake. But with the coming of western man, the Mother got abused, raped and invaded. The Rubber industry had significant negative effect on the indigenous population in all countries that are part of the Amazon bassin. The rubber barons who owned the plantations became immensely rich, while those who collected the rubber made very little money. The rubber barons used the natives and forced them to tap rubber out of the trees. They brought also slaves from Africa to work on the plantations. Slavery and systematic brutality became widespread and in some areas 90% of the native population was wiped out. While it was the start of cities like Belem, Manaus and others, it meant the devastation – and sometimes genocide – of many indigenous tribes.
“During the Atlantic slave trade era, Brazil imported more enslaved Africans than any other country in the world. Brazil’s foundation was built on the exploitation and enslavement of indigenous peoples and Africans. Out of the 12 million Africans who were forcibly brought to the New World, approximately 5.5 million were brought to Brazil between 1540 and the 1860s. The mass enslavement of Africans played a pivotal role in the country’s economy and was responsible for the production of vast amounts of wealth. The inhumane treatment and forced labor of enslaved Africans remains a significant part of Brazil’s history and its ongoing struggle with systemic racism.” (Wikipedia)
I start to understand why we had to bring the ‘heart’ back to the Amazon. The history of this area and its people are so deeply wounded and violated. And sadly enough this still goes on to the present day. Petrol industry and goldmines are rapidly gobbling up the rainforest and endangering what is left from the indigenous tribes. But the worst industry is the cow industry, producing all the meat and steaks that we eat in the US and in Europe. About one fourth of the rainforest is gone, but not all is lost yet.
When I tune in to my guide, I get the following channeling.
“When one cycle comes to an end, another one begins. When one door closes, another one opens. You are coming at the end of the first cycle of 13 years of the Mayan calendar, starting at the year zero, 2012. This is the time of the return of Kukulkan, King of the Jungle, King ofthe Andes. The energy of the snake and the bird will come together and will become the feathered snake, or – as you call it in western mythology – the Time of the Dragon. It heralds as well the return of the Dragonriders, people who are familiar with the power of the elements and know who to use them and tune into them. Some are more connected to the earth element, others are connected to the waterelement, or fire or air. You also have the etherdragons, ethereal beings that move in and out of space and time. They connect the ‘otherworld’ with the physical world.
Your time in Manaus heralds the moment of the first cycle of 13 years ending in 2025. You don’t need to do anything. Just by being there you are channeling the energies of the divine with the earth. By coming into the heart of the labyrinth and of the heart of the tree of life, you will open up this portal of the Heart. For the gathering in november 2025 invite all the other tribes, and all the directions of life on the great wheel. Invite the condor and the eagle. Invite the bird and the snake. Invite all Living beings, the elements ,the reptiles, the animals, the trees and the human beings to come together in this powwow of Love.”
Travellog , part 12 (last part)
Eran and me are sitting in a luxury restaurant back in Belem, overlooking the broad river. At the horizon are dark clouds, and now and then lightning comes out of the clouds, lighting up the water, the rainforest and the sky. We don’t hear the thunder, its too far away for that. It is just a silent spectacle of water and sky, light and darkness. We have grown accustomed to the intense power of nature, the constant heat and humidity, wet T-shirts and sweat, dirt and smelly odours. But also the many vibrant colors, the delicious food, the innocent smiles, the seducing beauty. It brings us in contact with a physicality, an embodiment and virility that I haven’t experienced before. The mind is of less importance here than the body. It is all about presence.
I am aware that what we miss sometimes in Portugal or Europe – soulfulness, fertility, aliveness – is here in abundance. And, as with every new culture that I’ve encountered, I start to love it. I feel admiration and sympathy for the people who are making a living on the ruins of this old colonial history, not by fighting the old, but by mixing old and new in a complete new creation.
Sometimes we are very aware that we are the only ‘white’ people here, or just one of very few. ‘He, gringo!’ a young man called out to us when walking through a village. But nowhere did we feel violence or aggression towards us. People liked to share their culture with us, and we gratefully accepted.
We both realize that we’ve been made so much afraid by all the jungle adventures and stories from the movies. They are all about the dangers, the death and the challenges when entering the jungle. Everything can eat you, kill you or destroy you. It is just like my childhood book ‘Skyhigh, Milesdeep’. We have been taught to distrust the forest, fear the Indians, be scared of the animals. And as challenging as our journey was at times, we started to love the Amazon deeply. It brought us in touch with our bodies, with sensuality, with life force and with deep healing.
The vision I had of the enormous energy vortex in the heart of the Amazon, that contained the blueprint of all the medicines and healing that we need as human beings, is still resonating within me.
When we looked last night at a Netflix movie called Jungle Cruise we are both startled that they used this imagery. The two heroes, Emily blunt and Dwain Johnson, need to find the Healing Tree, when the moon is full, at a place where the snake eats its tail, to heal the broken heart. Strange synchronicity. It could have been our journey. All the different elements were there: the full moon, the snake, the heart, and the healing tree.
At the Rubber museum another part was brought in, that is often overlooked in Netflix adventures: the atrocities and genocide done to slaves, both indigenous Indians and black slaves from Africa. Their descendants are making up the population that is now Brazil.
We are both mesmerized, enchanted and also deeply touched by the whole adventure into the heart of the Amazon. The power and magic of entering the mythological field became so strong during our last day in the jungle, that our minds couldn’t grasp it anymore. A strong spiritual power overtook us and led us towards a new path, by showing us our own shadow and inner wounds. But I also know that the goddess never gives anything without asking for something in return. She is endlessly generous, but also demanding. And I am not sure which part I like more: I feel both sides are richly rewarding: both the giving and the receiving part.
Back in Belem we become aware again of the plan to have the next Climate Conference here, in november 2025. Just as we did a paralel ceremony for the earth during the COP in Glasgow on mount Shiehallion, in the heart of Scotland, and during the COP in Sharm el Sheich, on mount Sinai, I feel we need to organise a next Ceremony for the Earth in november 25, connected to the heart of the Amazon, the Mother snake of the World.
It seems our role is not to go into the economic, technical or environ-mental aspect of climate change, but to bring in the heart and the spiritual connection to our planet. To understand that our heart and the earth are one. I see a synchronized ceremony happening all over the world on the full moon of november 20th, called EARTH HEART.
The mind is part of the problem, just as technology and economy.
What we learned from the forest is the deep realization that we are part of nature, not above it. We can’t fix it or solve it, if we don’t bring ourselves in and become ‘naked’.
When I tune into spirit, they tell me the following message.
“The Amazon doesn’t need to be saved. Yóu need to be saved. The earth doesn’t need to be saved, humanity needs to be saved. From itself. From its greed and consumerism, that leads people into the abyss of the soul. You are the ones who are going down the drain, without realizing it. Nature is just a reflection, a mirror for your own process and development. It will give back to you precisely that which you send out, just as it has always done. In that way it is serving you, to get clarity about your own process. As soon as you start thinking you need to save it, you will project your own demons and darkness outside of you. Yet when you take it in, and you eat your own shadow, absorb your own darkness, you make the first step in healing and integrating both light and dark. Nature is your teacher, your mentor, and it will tell you exactly where you are in your development and in your evolution. The best way to progress is to learn from her, and to reflect on your own inner state of being. The moment you will become more in harmony with your self, with your inner nature, you will perceive more harmony in the outer nature and the balance will be restored. As inside, so outside. As above, so below.
The deeper you go into your self – like you just did by entering the jungle, entering into the night – you will create a huge turning point. By reflecting upon your survival fears, entering the darkness, and becoming familiar with it, so it can transcend and you will receive its wisdom and its knowledge that is waiting down there in the dark.”
It feels time to go home, share our story to a broader public, and to prepare for ‘Earth Heart’; inviting groups, friends and networks to create maybe one of the largest ceremonies ever conducted: a ceremony for the heart of the earth, and for the heart of humanity.
We will keep you informed and would love it if you would like to join us in making this happen. Let’s bring the heart back in…!
Eran and Ton out.
Belem, august 23, 2024.
