I have gone through many "unusual" experiences since I began my quest for consciousness, which inspired me to start writing a book.
When I think about the things I truly enjoy, writing is at the top of my mind. I have been writing online since I started blogging in 2003, and it has become a passion that has endured.
Whenever I meet people, they often ask me to share stories from my journey of consciousness. Hence, I have decided to write most of these stories, as people seem genuinely interested in them. Once I have finished writing the most compelling ones, I will determine how to organize them into a book or potentially use them as material for one.
I primarily write in my journal, and if you aren't subscribed to it in addition to this newsletter, here are the posts you missed since my last entry:
I have also written what is perhaps the most important story that has changed my life in many ways, marking the beginning of a whole new chapter: "My First Plant Ceremony in Peru - October 2016"
Why write a book? The first thought that comes to mind is that a book may be one of the few things that remain after someone passes away.
It has been challenging to write about the plant ceremony experience in Peru with Leila Janah. She passed away in January 2020, and I often think of her as we were together for more than four years. The strange thought of "what remains of Leila today?" crossed my mind. Apart from memories, her two businesses and a foundation still exist, but I noticed that her website, leilajanah.com, disappeared as the domain registration was not renewed. Though her Medium posts are still accessible, much has vanished, and the web archive doesn't preserve everything, or it's difficult to find. Who knows if Medium will endure in the long run? However, Leila’s book remains, and anyone can listen to her voice on Audible. She wrote it mostly in front of me during countless calls with someone who assisted her. The book is still here even though she’s not.
This also reminded me of the time I discussed impermanence with Choeze Kuchen Rinpoche, where we contemplated the only truth being impermanence itself. Why bother striving for permanence when everything is impermanent? I have very few belongings left from my father who passed at 53, hardly anything at all. I would be incredibly happy to be able to read one of his books again or, better yet, hear his voice reading it. Now that I have four sons, the idea of leaving something that remains when I'm no longer here feels like a noble pursuit. Therefore, I contemplated writing stories that could tell them something they may not know or even offer lessons they can learn from—who knows? I will write these stories with this goal in mind, and perhaps others will also enjoy them.
Another personal goal of writing a book is the healing it brings. Over the years, writing has been profoundly therapeutic for me, especially through my handwritten personal journal. When I write here, it's different because I must consider the impact of sharing things more broadly. I could inadvertently hurt someone or disclose something that was not meant to be revealed. It has happened to me before. However, with each mistake and experience, I learn and heal something within myself. I don't believe this process will ever cease; there will always be something to heal or improve upon until I pass away. Writing compels me to reflect on my life, contemplate its purpose, how it has evolved over time, and what I have learned.
I recently turned 51 on July 14th, just three days ago. When my father passed away, he was 53, so it's hard not to think about the same fate potentially befalling me at any time. I'm not overly concerned, but I suppose that's what happens when you reach 50—you begin to contemplate death more. According to the Maya (with whom I spent time), 52 is the age when one should start "teaching." I'm not entirely sure what I can teach, honestly, but I have undoubtedly lived a full life and can share numerous stories and things I have learned myself. Let's write these stories and see where they take me. As always, I will primarily write them in my journal and post a recap here every week or so.
In fact, I have already written a book in 2005 titled "Blogs pour les Pros" with Laurence Beauvais. It was merely a guide for someone starting to write online in the form of a blog, which was a novel concept at the time—pre-Facebook, pre-Instagram, and pre-Twitter. However, writing about consciousness feels like a much more intricate task.
I can obviously sense the difference in writing for a book compared to writing newsletters. For instance, in my plant medicine story, I included numerous photos. However, I can't rely on them for a book and must describe what they represent, such as the visions they conveyed. English isn't my first language, so it will take time to adapt and learn to write in a different manner.
I would be grateful for any suggestions, help, or comments along the way if you're interested in following my progress through these two newsletters.
Thank you for reading, and special thanks to those who support PAUA by being paid subscribers to this newsletter.