Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust
“In Our Naughty Lives” is a departure from our normal sex-positive blogs. They are personal blogs that allow us to write more personal stories that often have sex-positive messages but on a more personal level.
Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust
Typically, these words are read at a funeral. Luckily for me, November 11th was not my last day on this earth; I must have more left to accomplish.
On that day, I was asleep in my bed when a fire started in my house. I was truly fortunate that someone was sleeping over, smelled the smoke, and ran upstairs to alert me; if not, I probably would not have made it out alive.
As I watched everything I owned go up in flames, I thought about how lucky I was, not about the things inside burning. Everything ended up as ashes or dust. Nothing survived.
What does not kill us makes us stronger...
That night, I thought about this close brush with death, followed by the realization that my lifelong collection of “stuff,” not to mention my home, was now all gone. During the fire, all I thought about was waking people up so they did not get trapped in the fire and how we could put this thing out.
Luckily for the little community of Zipolite in Oaxaca, Mexico, many people showed up in minutes, all eager to help fight this fire. Armed with buckets and garden hoses, they fought bravely and watered down neighboring homes to prevent the fire from spreading.
It took a while, but a couple of water trucks showed up, and they could finally keep the fire from spreading. Eventually, collectively, they successfully extinguished the fire. The next day, friends, family, and many strangers showed up and helped shovel the ashes into a dump truck. It was an emotional day, watching your life being taken away in the back of a truck.
I remember being pretty strong during those early morning hours while we fought the fire. It wasn’t until the next day, as people were shoveling the ashes into the truck that I finally broke down. In the two weeks that followed, there have been waves of emotions, sometimes high, sometimes low, but always changing. Always emotional, always intense.
Many have told me, “It’s only stuff,” and they are right, but I loved that house. It was perfect for me. It held a lot of memories, and now it’s all gone—just stuff. Yes, but there was a part of me that was shoveled into that truck.
Am I stronger now? Certainly not yet, but I hope I will be eventually. I know time will help heal the emotions I cannot shake right now, but I can see things getting better.
One day at a time.
A Special Thanksgiving
A few days later, I went to Mexico City to get a new passport and buy some basic things (pants, underwear, a coat, some T-shirts, shoes, sandals, and tennis shoes. Everything I own now fits into one suitcase.
Five days later, it was Thanksgiving. It was one of the most impactful Thanksgiving of my life. This holiday is always a day to reflect on and be thankful for what you have. It was hard to figure out how to be thankful this time, but my family and friends helped me through this challenging time, and they reminded me of what we need to be grateful for. I felt the love and positive energy coming from all of them. I still do.
When someone goes through a traumatic experience (a medical emergency, loss of a loved one, losing a job, or other major unexpected tragedies), we must look within to find out what we are really made up of.
So here I was on Thanksgiving, in a Mexico City restaurant called Pinche Gringa, eating turkey that was brined for two weeks before being smoked for six hours. I had stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, green beans, and cranberry sauce. I needed that “normalcy” right then. I needed a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, and it was amazing.
The owner came over, and we complimented his restaurant, and he asked us where we were from. Zipolite, we proudly told him, a little place down in Oaxaca. “I love Zipolite,” he said; it turns out he goes down there 3 or 4 times a year and is heading down in a few weeks.
He bought us some drinks, and I felt connected to Zipolite once again, even in Mexico City. It truly is a small world.
Into the void
A few years ago, I was experiencing a different type of trauma, and I decided to try something different. I never was big into most of the popular drugs, but I gravitated towards psychedelics.
I woke up one morning and read an ad for people seeking the toad, or Bufo Alvarius, the Sonoran Desert toad. Known as 5 MEO-DMT, it is one of the world's strongest psychedelics on the planet. I don’t know why, but I decided to get out of bed and go on a journey. And go on a journey I did.
For those not familiar with this “medicine,” it is intense and can be very different for each person. Often called the “God Molecule,” it can cause an Ego Death and transport you to an out-of-body experience.
Here is my experience:
I was dealing with a lot in my life at the time and struggling to find purpose and be happy. I wasn’t looking for a cure that day; I just thought this was a good time to try something different.
The ceremony took place on the beach, right in the middle of Playa Zipolite, with a shaman and a couple of his staff. As I inhaled the vapor of the venom from the toad, I stared out at the ocean, and it began to crack into pieces. The sky, clouds, ocean, and sand started falling into pieces right before my eyes.
White light took place where the pieces fell away, and soon, I felt myself fly out of my body and into the light. I ended up in a place I think of as the void. It was a place with no gravity, no up, no down, just white light surrounding me. There was no time, no earth, nothing that I could connect to my reality. It was the absence of everything.
And I was happy.
Not simply happy, but really, really, happy. Ecstatic. I was at peace.
I was not afraid, and I remember thinking to myself “Do I live here now?” and if I did, I was OK with that. I also remember having an epiphany, and I realized that my happiness did not come from anyone else. It did not come from money or “stuff.” My happiness came from within.
I went somewhere where I had absolutely nothing, yet I was happy.
I felt like I was in the void for around 6-8 hours, but it was actually less than 20 minutes. It’s hard to explain the feeling, the complete loss of time, and how those 20 minutes changed my life.
Just another chapter...
In my life, I have had life-defining moments that were what I would call life-changing. Getting married, joining the military, having a son, and starting a business were all big chapters in my life. Experiencing the toad was one of them. The fire was another, and I am beginning yet another chapter in my life.
But I am not afraid. In fact, I feel a certain freedom; I feel light. I think I will live a more minimalist life and look forward to that. I plan to spend some time in my RV next summer without a firm itinerary. I will go where the wind takes me.
I do not think everyone needs to go on a psychedelic journey to find their inner peace and happiness. You can find it by looking inward, through meditation, through silence. Guided meditation has helped me sleep these past couple of weeks, and I look forward to a lighter and more fluid future.
Like a Phoenix
I should have been part of the ashes on that November morning, but I am now living on and enjoying these moments, days, and hopefully years that were given to me. It is a gift that I do not take for granted.
I was sent some quotes from friends about rising from the ashes like a Phoenix, and I feel like a bird that is ready to fly (as soon as I get a new passport). These words (below) mean a lot to me:
“I’ve died a thousand deaths, each time reinventing myself brighter, stronger, and purer than before. From the midst of destruction, I became the creator of myself. From the midst of darkness, I became my own source of light.” — Cristen Rodgers
“Here in this suffering, all previous beliefs are called into question. They are consumed in the fire sparked and fueled by our own illusion. The pain becomes the ashes we are now entombed in. It is only when we find ourselves at this most imprisoned of junctures that we emerge again, the phoenix of our very life which is ever so much more beautiful than the last one.” — TEAL
“Often it’s the deepest pain which empowers you to grow into your highest self.” — Karen Salmansohn
I am writing this very personal blog not to gain sympathy but for therapy. And to let people know that I am okay. Really, I am. I feel incredibly fortunate for many things. I am grateful I have time left to accomplish unfinished goals, learn more about love, and find true happiness from within.
I look forward to 2024 like never before. I have big plans. I’m going to throw some epic parties, and then I’m going to spend some quality time in nature, learning more about myself. I hope to see many of you during the next year because you need to see this bird fly.
It’s not my time... yet.
Disclaimer: This is not a promotion or endorsement of drug use; this is a very personal story about an experience that I wanted to share. This particular ceremony is legal where I was in Mexico. I am not promoting or endorsing any illegal drug consumption at our events or anywhere it may be illegal (which it is in Louisiana).