Eight Years of Journalling: Gearing up for my journey with Ayahuasca in the depths of the Amazon Rainforest (Nov, 2023)

Yesterday was a special day. It was the day that I finished the third journal of 2023

If you know me, you know I journal hard. Since the age of seventeen, I’ve kept a black book in my company which has now grown to a shoebox of little black books that contain thoughts, reflections, insights, prayers and everything in between.

Conversations with people, advice from my elders, things that made me laugh, things that made me cry. (Nah, I don’t cry.)

My journals are not just portals to the past, but testimonies for the future. They are not kept as records of what I ate and what I did, but statements of intent, records to detail who I am and where I’m going.

Writing is sacred. It’s magical. And, in that moment when pen and paper connect, when the ink keeps flowing and flowing, something divine, something indescribable, takes place.

In less than two weeks, I will be the first member of my family to graduate. From dropping out, to having all odds against me of not just going back, but finishing it, is proof to the power of, not just prayer, but of action. Then, two weeks later, at the culmination, and celebration, of a significant rites-of-passage, I will embark on another one. Undoubtedly the biggest one yet with @warriorretreats

Entering into The Amazon Jungles, into Peru, into Iquitos, and Cusco, to sit and learn, and walk – by their side – with some of the strongest children to ever grace this planet, in the company of twenty-six leaders, from all around the globe, on a true rites-of-passage journey – will change my life.

I will put my ego aside and sit with Ayahuasca. To be called to experience one of, if not, the most life-changing medicines on this Planet is unfathomable.

How did I end up here?

Where am I going?

And what’s next?

Well, what I’m figuring out in this life of dead-ends, false hopes and restarts, the proverbial rainbow with the little man in green awaiting our arrival isn’t far off in the horizon. It’s right here. Amongst us. Around our dinner-table, in our community, in our churches, and our temples.

I don’t know all that will happen. But I do know this:

The person who goes, and the one who returns, won’t be the same.