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Shaking the stone off me, I returned to my standing form. A large mountain had been left in the wake of the events that had preceded. The desert was bathed in a beautiful light and the Beings below shouted and cheered. A translucent Kayumari, complete with his crown of horns, stood ahead of me. He smiled.

“Thank you.” I slowly nodded in response.

“I want you to have this,” he continued. “Our song of love, The Light and I’s, we condensed it. We want this world to have it, so that it may always remember this joyous day, our very first.” In his palms was a smooth and rotund cactus with a beautiful pink flower, Kayumari’s heart. “Because you and I shared our vision, your love for Tziku and the Kumuketai will be here too.”

“May I ask you something?” I requested of him.

“Of course,” he said beaming a smile with warm eyes.

“Did it always have to happen this way? Becoming The Mountain Who Hears Everything was…” I trailed off, pondering the path behind me.

He shook his head, light even with his tremendous crown, filled with the immense wisdom he now had.

“No. We can always create something better. No one ever need feel that pain again.” I smiled for all those who would wear the Kumukemai mantle ahead of me. We embraced.

“I must go now,” he continued smiling, “but always remember this, breathe and enjoy this day. This time is a gift and it won’t last forever. Now go have fun.” With that, an ethereal two-legged embodiment of The Light appeared behind him. He gave a quick wink at me before they joined together as a two-headed eagle and flew off in the direction of the Sun.


Dear reader, our journey has led us to the present moment, a place of profound potential and beauty where we each hold the power to influence the course of the future. The fates of the wolves and the Wixárika, precariously balanced though they may be, are not yet written in stone. Our narratives are our choices.

I urge you to consider donating to or purchasing traditional art from organizations such as The Wixárika Research Center. When doing so, be sure to mention your support for the Wolf Mara’akames or Kumukemai. Your contribution will echo in the melodies of the Wolf Mara'akames, resonating in the spirit of our sacred rites, while helping preserve the vibrant tapestry of Wixárika art and culture.

I also encourage you to lend your hand to anthropologists like Jay Fikes, who work directly with Wolf Mara’akames. Their invaluable work bridges cultures, shedding light on the profound wisdom of the Wolf Mara'akames and ensuring their voices echo into the future.

Moreover, you can directly support the guardians of the Sierra Madre Occidental, the wolves, through initiatives like the Cuetlachtepetl Wolf Mountain Education Center, led by steadfast Wixárika leadership. A multitude of other organizations tirelessly work to conserve the wolf populations, and they too would greatly benefit from your support. Please note, I do not receive any donations from the above organizations.

If the call of the wild resonates with your spirit, if you yearn to do more than simply observe this story from the fringes, we invite you to become part of our community at The Burrow. Here, we host a rich variety of events designed to honor and celebrate the sacred bond between all Beings, fostering a deep sense of love and mutual respect.

As we stand at the crossroads of time, the choice is yours, dear reader. Will you merely be a silent observer, or will you join us as an active participant in the preservation and celebration of the wondrous Wixárika culture and the magnificent wolves that inspire it? The future of the Wixárika and the wolves of the Sierra Madre Occidental is not preordained. It is a story we write together, each of us contributing our own verses to the grand ballad of coexistence. Let us weave a tale of resilience, hope, and the triumphant song of the Wolf Mara'akames echoing across the mountains, heralding a future where our sacred practices continue unbroken, and the wolves roam free. Pampariyutsi / Thank you.

Overlooking the sunset on the shore, I pulled Tziku in close to me.

“Now what?” I asked her, “Where do we go from here?”

“I can think of a few directions,” she winked, pawing at a small fungus on the ground. “There’s still many souls who have not yet found their home and those who must join us on our journey.” The image of a thick vine snaking around a column and a leaf floating amidst stars flashed into my mind’s eye. “The story is far from over. Together, we can change the world.”

I gave a soft, pleased grunt at her. A soft green flash fell across the horizon and the sky filled with the aurora borealis.


In loving memory of Einstein, Prometheus Antilia, The Light. May we live together forever.
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We neared Wirikuta, the place of the gathered Beings. Our plan was a simple one. This sacred place needed to be the place where Tatewari would raise The Light high enough in the sky that he could fly up and assume his new form, giving his Light to all of Creation. Kayumari would begin the ritual once in the place he began the first ceremony. We expected resistance. Tatutzi Nakawe was the most powerful magic-wielder at the gathering and a major contributor to the source of The False Light. Ravenshade was talented but uncertain of her abilities. Sweetstalk would lend the support and might of his People. Ultimately, I would be the one to separate Tatutzi Nakawe and Tatewari, but not without the help of Ravenshade and Tziku.

“Oh no,” whispered Kayumari as we approached.

“What is it,” I asked unable to see anything. My eyes strained at the darkness. This should be the place, so where was everyone? Diving into my ears, I felt my heart drop. Everyone was there, but where there should have been a celebratory gathering of the world’s finest instead was a seemingly impenetrable darkness. A low sinister hum filled the air.

“It’s drifting our way,” whimpered Tatewari.

“Stand strong,” urged Sweetstalk, trotting towards the impending blackness. “We have nothing to fear and everything to gain.”

I leaned against Tziku as the darkness washed over us. Unable to see, I could only hear and smell those around me.

“Follow the sound of my voice,” Kayumari commanded us. He softly began to sing the song I recognized from when we had first met, The Light joining along. It filled me with a warmth that reached past the darkness, past my fear of whatever lay ahead. In its place was left a radiant joy. It did not matter that this may be the last time I ever heard it or anything else. The future awaited.

All too soon, a sharpness broke into the song. “Helloooo,” greeted Tatutzi Nakawe, his lilting voice filled with angles and pain. “Thanks for coming back. I was wondering when you were going to get Tatewari to bring The Light up for me.”

“Tatutzi, is that you?” I heard Starnova mew from my right.

“Star – is that –”

IGNORE HER,” rumbled The False Light, her voice emanating from everywhere within the cloud at once. I sent a tendril of compassion to Tatutzi as I heard him gulp with fear. I knew true pain drives suffering and dissonance and that all he had done would be forgiven.

“Where. Is. Tatewari?” demanded Tatutzi through gritted teeth, the tone of his voice betraying the angle of his gaze. Me.

“You won’t find him,” shouted Ravenshade. She had cast a cloak upon him, hiding him as a duplicate of Starnova as soon as she saw the cloud of darkness. Although I could tell she was afraid, I was proud of her.

“No matter. You can’t keep him from me!” Just above me, the sound of gigantic wings filled the air. Tatutzi was pushing away the cloud of darkness!

“Now!” yelled Kayumari, in position.


Pampariyutsi / Thank you, dear reader, for your unwavering journey alongside us in the exploration of the Wixárika cosmogony and way of life. As we delve deeper, we face a somber yet vital chapter—the seemingly insurmountable challenges currently assailing the Wixárika community.

In the annals of Wixárika history, after the First Migration marked an epoch of immense suffering, particularly for the Guachichils and other Chichimeca who chose to stay behind. They braced themselves against the uninvited storm of atrocities unleashed by ruthless Spanish colonial forces. Our mighty Ancestors waged a fierce battle to safeguard their sacred companions—the Dogs, the revered Hikuri, and their sacred way of life. Despite their heroic resistance, only a few managed to withstand the onslaught.

Already reeling from the waves of diseases that claimed nearly 90% of the population, we were plunged into the grueling Chichimeca Wars. These battles etched the final lines of a somber chapter. The survivors were spiritually suppressed, compelled to renounce their beliefs for Christianity, and enslaved in their own sacred spaces, forced to mine for silver and other precious minerals. Physical chains echoed the metaphysical chains of the Great Chain of Being—an imposed ideology asserting an unjust hierarchy among all beings, further suppressing our People.

Meanwhile, those who journeyed westward managed to keep our traditions' flame alive for longer, with many still honoring the old ways. The Migration rekindles every few years, albeit along a changed path. Many stretches of the traditional route are now obstructed by fences, prompting parts of the journey to be undertaken by vehicles. Yet, the final destination of this sacred journey hangs in the balance. Our sacred Wirikuta teeters on the brink of obliteration. Several silver mining permits held by the corporation First Majestic Silver, based out of Vancouver, Canada, pose a grave threat to its sanctity. The possibility of its destruction within our lifetime, dear reader, is a stark reality we must confront.

While the Mara’akames as a whole endure, adapting to new realities, a poignant crisis looms: the gradual fading of the First of the Four Grandfathers, the Wolf Spirit Kumukemai, whose mantle I wear. Once integral to our sacred migration, the steady disappearance of Kumukemai’s presence symbolizes our traditional lifestyle's waning significance and our disconnection from the wolves.

The Wolf Mara'akames, once central figures in our community, now find themselves receding into the realm of myths. This decline has been driven by the external pressures of Christianity and the threats posed to the local wolf populations that sever the bond between the two. The resulting secrecy in their way of life has stirred unease among some Wixárika who do not share in our zoo heart as deeply.

In the place of our ancestral traditions, the sedentary farming of corn has taken root, pushing the Wixárika further from our heritage. As we till the soil, a deep sense of loss gnaws at me—a forgotten communion with the land and the beings we share it with.

This tidal wave of change sweeps our youth along in its wake. Young Wixárika face mounting pressure to forsake their home communities, language, spirituality, and roots, pushed instead towards the urban allure of schools and city life. This cultural tug of war threatens to uproot the very foundations of our identity.

Of paramount concern, the wolves of the Sierra Madre Occidental, the beating heart of our culture, teeter on the brink of extinction. The loss of the wolves could spell the end for the essence of the Wolf Mara'akames, severing a sacred link and bringing an end to the healing ceremonies at the heart of the Wixárika way of life. If the howl of the wolves falls silent in the mountains, the songs of the Wolf Mara'akames may echo no more, fading into the cold silence of oblivion. At first glance, all may seem lost...

Tatutzi Nakawe screeched and the huge, sickly black bird swooped towards Ravenshade, talons outstretched. Tziku and I growled and jumped in front of Ravenshade, fending off the attack. Looking over, I stopped dead in my tracks. The False Light had cast off its guise of a two-legged child in favor of its scintillating, infinite expanse of horrendous visions. Everything else fell away as it slid towards me and time seemed to stand still.

Out of the dread, the dissonance and the everlasting darkness came a new song. It was coming from Kayumari – no, me! Kayumari and I were singing it together. We were one.


Rainbow all around you.

Kayumari looked down at The Light, tears filling his eyes.


Rainbow all around you.

The Light, took a ragged breath, and tucked his head into Kayumari.

Like a shell, unbreakable.

Letting go, Kayumari handed The Light to Tatewari.

Rainbow all around you.

Tatewari nodded and looked down at The Light, fragile and proud.

Rainbow all around you.

The Fire God cast off his human form, squared smoke billowing off of him.


May the colors of the rainbow surround you.

Tatewari began to fly upward into the sky, taking The Light with him.


He oh nah he nay oh wah.

Tatutzi’s eyes bulged and he rushed to catch Tatewari before he flew beyond his reach.

This was my moment. Savoring the each second, I fell in between the two and Ravenshade opened the channel between Tziku and I’s consciousness. I began uncontrollably laughing with joy as I could see our love, all of its romance and all of its moments of fun across the many forms we’d take, two-legged and four. As I laughed, I cast off all of my fears and doubts about the future, about being a parent, about my past pain, The False Light, everything. Each doubt manifested into an outcropping of stone, pushing me higher and higher into the sky.

Tatutzi seemed shocked. He clawed at the stone, an extension of my body, but was unable to find any purchase. His whispered magic into my ears failed again and again as I howled alongside Tziku. Tatewari’s heat scorched my back, but it was all worth it.

At last, Tatewari threw The Light up into the air. The Light gave a look of immense peace. He let go of his four-legged disguise. A Being, made of wings, triangles and eyes of pure light dazzled the entire sky. Puffs of smoke and flame emerged from what was once the body of the tiny furred Being.

I felt something crawling up my spine. Kayumari was running up the mountain that I had become, launching himself once he had reached the top. The Light sent forth a tendril of wings and light, gently scooping up Kayumari. I could hear their voice as though they were next to me.

“I couldn’t leave you to do this alone,” Kayumari blushed, both human and deer at once.

“I could hardly expect it,” The Light spoke, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Kayumari sang his voice melting into an eternal note of love. He buried himself into the feathers of the newly revealed Being. An impossibly beautiful and great triangle of light and song exploded into the sky, transforming The False Light into flowers and finishing the melody they began so long ago.

The Sun rose for the very first time.
Kayumari winced at the sight of The False Light, inhaling a sharp breath. She seemed to notice and began to stumble across the inner ring of the circle towards him. At once, The True Light, formerly the Yellow Musician, leapt out and bit her leg in a protective gesture. Gasps erupted from the circles as he bore down, sinking his small, razor-like teeth into The False Light.

“Get him off her!” spoke a disembodied voice from the crowd. “Kick him out!” shouted another. As a large being with six appendages moved to dislodge him, The Light backed off, running over to sniff Kayumari, assessing his condition. The circles were quickly dissolving and moving, forming groups.

Tziku and I shared a glance. Kayumari summoned us over. “Something’s missing. Something is wrong. Someone in this circle must be hurting deeply for this to have happened.” He looked off to the side where Tatutzi Nakawe and others were doting over The False Light.

“Kayumari,” I began as gently as possible, “We shared a vision, shared something more. I know what you went through – what you’re going through. Is it possible it’s from that vision?” He paused for a moment, then nodded.

“Yes. Some part of this,” he said gesturing towards the mass of Beings around The False Light, “is from my suffering. But…” His eyes focused intently at the ground. “Not all. Someone else is suffering. Someone else is missing. In my earlier pain, I ignored it, but now, it’s obvious. We must find this Being, and fast.”



Welcome to the third part of our literary journey, The Road to Wirikuta. Pampariyutsi / Thank you for walking with us this far. This chapter in our shared story, dear reader, is about life. According to the Wixárika cosmogony, everything is alive. If you are kind and patient enough, you may commune with the one with whom you wish to speak. All that is required is some time and the desire to listen.

Different entities and forces of nature have different personalities and choose to speak in different ways. The easiest way to speak with someone is to meet them on their level. Some individuals choose to bring an appropriate gift if they are looking to ask a specific question or discuss a specific topic. Do that and they will have wisdom for you. It is okay if you do not have a gift. Existence is kind and often, bringing yourself is a gift enough.

From Brother Wind to Sister Water, each part of existence is singing alongside you. Everyone is here to help you in this shared journey. Remember, there can be no mountain peak without a valley to define it. Even your darkest moment is here to teach you and loves you.

As we together are the universe unfolding its narrative in real time, we get to define and celebrate what that is. Through conversations with every part of creation, we can experience the fullness of what life and existence has to offer. You do not need a spaceship to visit the far reaches of the universe and receive its message. You will have everything you need by walking a good path in this life.

No matter where you go or who you meet, remember to be kind. I find that everyone I meet just wants to be seen and heard as they truly are. It does not matter where you come from or what clothes you wear. If you are friendly and helpful, you will be home.


“This is the place,” Kayumari said, spreading his hands outward, gesturing at the deep cavern in the mountains ahead of us. Its great mouth loomed open, threatening to pull us in.

“Where are we?” asked Tziku.

“This is my last Blindness, my ignorance. I pushed this place aside when first bringing together the Gods to bring forth The Light.”

“But why?” I asked. Didn’t we need all the help we could get, I thought, and didn’t that include everyone? Kayumari’s eyes swept to the ground. The Light’s nose flared open and closed with light snorts, examining the air in the silence. Tatewari, who had come as he did not want to be anywhere near Tatutzi Nakawe, was examining the ground at the entrance.

Kayumari looked up and smiled. “My father’s fear. But it need not be mine.”

At that moment, Tatewari began walking slowly backward. On the inside of the cave wall, a soft light was cut off by a tremendous shadow. The Being slinking towards us was gigantic, clearly built with powerful muscles. Collectively, we stepped back. “Are you sure your father was wrong?!” demanded Tatewari, his eyes fully open as he looked at Kayumari. Rounding the corner in the cave, the fear-inspiring Being stepped into the open.

“Meow.” The Being presented itself in front of us. Now, no longer distorted by the light inside the cave, it was clearly a similar size to The Light, but much more slender, its silvery fur emitting a spectacular array of light. Small particles orbited the creature and her eyes looked upward, albeit with a stare that seemed somewhat blank. Behind her, a tall cloaked figure holding an emerald flamed torch gently removed her hood.

“Oh!” she shouted the hooded figure as The Light ran, emitting a low growl towards the silvery creature.

“Stop that,” Kayumari gently chided The Light, deftly scooping him up. “He has a hard time letting go of old prejudices.”

“It’s okay,” said the once-cloaked figure, tilting her head revealing an open and smiling face. She wore the guise of a young two legger with long hair. She carefully picked up the silvery Being who curled into her arms. “I’m Ravenshade and this is Starnova.”

“I can introduce myself,” Starnova snipped, peering up at Ravenshade, raising a paw to playfully bat at her. Ravenshade let Starnova jump out of her hands and stifled a laugh. Starnova laughed along before looking wistfully at our motley crew. “I’m glad you came,” confided Starnova with an air of sadness in her voice. “I was beginning to think Tatutzi forgot about me again,” she mewed. Ravenshade grimaced and carried a deep sadness in her eyes. Kayumari shared the look, facing away with some hidden emotion.

Ravenshade looked up. “She’s not the only one.” Behind her several other Beings like Starnova walked out from the entrance of the cavern. One with stripes like flames and deep yellow eyes spoke, “There’s a darkness that turns those away from their loved ones. It fills them with shame and forces them to hide who they are. We have felt it, even here.”

“The False Light,” I yawped looking at Tziku.

“It must be,” spoke the proud, slender Being. “We call it The Future That Must Not Come to Pass.” He waved his tail towards Ravenshade. “We’ve done our best to keep it at bay, but it must be defeated at its source.”

“Wise words,” spoke Tziku, trailing off in search of his name.

“Sweetstalk.”

“Sweetstalk. You speak true. Love and honesty will be the only way we can persevere to defeat it.”

“I’m sorry,” said Ravenshade, looking between Kayumari and I, “For what lies ahead. I’ve seen a glimpse of the future past and it was difficult. I know if anyone can do this, it’s you all.”

“We can’t do this without you” Kayumari said, walking up to Ravenshade and placing a hand on her shoulder. “My father may have avoided the awe-inspiring power of Felines, but I won’t make his mistake. Come, we have much to discuss before the upcoming battle.”
“We’ve arrived,” said Kayumari, the Blue Musician, easing gently into a stop. The three of us had walked together inland toward the base of the mountains, discussing the future and what we may expect on our journey ahead.

I looked into the clearing in front of me and stifled a gasp. Before me stood all manner of beings; a dark creature of inky tentacles and orange eyes spoke with a radiant eagle with luxurious feathers. A shimmering sound suggested the presence of another being next to a horned creature. A stony being appeared to rest in silence alone. A tall androgynous creature with a flat, furless face emanated a sharp aura amidst other beings more difficult to discern. The grounds were packed.

“Everyone, find your places!” yelled Kayumari. I began to walk towards the crowd but shifted noticing the Yellow Musician silently pointing me into a spot towards the edge with kind eyes. Kayumari gestured towards the sky a few times and the Yellow Musician shook his head, looking disappointed. Following his cues, I found my place and immediately heard a rumbling from outside of the crowd approaching fast on my right.

I turned my head to see a mass of clouds forming the shape of a giant black bird diving towards me. Large blue eyes held me transfixed as the bird gracefully took to the ground, assuming a paler version of the now familiar form of the two legged, flat furless creatures. He pulled a pipe from the inside of his still transforming cloak and flicked his fingers at the bowl, lighting it. The smoke drifted past his black, tightly curled hair into the sky.

“Who ar-” I went to ask, a gesture of kindness and curiosity, when my ears shifted directly behind me. As I turned to see what had drawn my attention, a hot wind dried my eyes, forcing them to nearly close. A flaming, winged snake looped in circular, geometric patterns, slowly gliding to the ground. He shook the last bits of arcing fire from his rapidly disappearing tail and grew into a two legged guise. Long, almost soft appearing flames fell in waves from his head and he gazed at me. His look was simultaneously critical and lazy.

“Are you?” he finished for me and gave a half-laugh.

“I’m Kumukemai.” He looked familiar but I wasn’t sure why.

“Tatewari,” he said with a nod, extending his hand.

“Tatutzi Nakawe,” came a voice from behind me before I could return the kindness. It was the dark figure with a pipe. I sensed an edge in his tone. Before I could respond or speculate any further on the relationship between the two, Kayumari began again.

“Finally, we have all arrived. We are all here to bring change to this place. There is no continuous light, no continuous rhythm. There is no true change, no real finality to our actions. It is time for a new era to begin.” Some voices yelled in agreement from the audience. “We must find the being who will bring about this change. They will have the light we are looking for.” The Yellow Musician wagged his nub of a tail in response.

“I will place them in the sky where they need to go,” offered Tatewari. Tatutzi Nakawe immediately interjected, looking furious.

“Why should you do it? I can fly as well as you can!” Tatewari looked wounded and a bit confused.

“You need to breathe. I don’t,” he said with exasperation to Tatutzi. “We can’t stop short on this journey.”

“Tatewari is correct,” said Kayumari, halting the argument. “For The Light to rise and be free, they must go beyond the place there is wind and breath.” He turned his head slowly to the ground, looking away from the Yellow Musician and spoke quietly. “They must go beyond this place.” Composing himself, he raised his head and began again.

“Partaking in a vision will allow us to communicate with the universal spirit and guide our path.” The Yellow Musician pulled out a cloth with his short muzzle and was helped by Kayumari, who had also assumed a two legged form. A feathered wand, some gourd bowls, and concentric diamond shapes also made of thin lines of cloth were also placed along the ground. Tatutzi Nakawe walked up to help, filling a shell with the dried leaves of a silvery plant. He lit the plant matter aflame and quickly pinched it out, creating a smoke similar to what was in his pipe. He began to walk around and douse individuals with the smoke using a feathered hand to cover their bodies.

Although I sensed the ritual was familiar to those around me, Kayumari explained the ceremony with a kind and patience voice. We collectively set an Intention to find The Light and would return to our Intention whenever we felt lost. He explained how we could pray and actions we could take if we felt overwhelmed by the experience.

As I listened, something caught my eye on the ground near me. Rainbow sparks, much like my own, danced back at me in a small cylinder shape. Delighted, I picked it up. On closer inspection, I realized it was a flower that was tightly closed. It had delicate, white petals and a small green base. As I looked more deeply, I saw that the petals themselves were so white, they reflected the light around them. Now this close, I could see Tatewari’s flames emitted a soft warm glow in the flower as well.

Tatutzi Nakawe approached him to cleanse him with the smoke. Tatewari drew himself up and hissed a bit. The anger in Tatutzi’s eyes was clear. However, in the name of the vision ceremony, Tatewari allowed himself to be cleansed, despite the fact that he emitted a square-ish shaped smoke himself.

Feeling something in my hand, I looked down. The flower was opening slowly, then rapidly as Tatutzi Nakawe headed towards me!

“Is this yours,” I asked him and he hushed me. I understood. Kayumari had explained that to stay present with the cleansing was a gift. I inhaled the smoke, enjoying the flavors a bit acrid but otherwise pleasant. I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. When he was done, I thanked him.

“That is the Kieri, the Moonflower,” he whispered. “The Being it represents is one of great power. I’m sure she is The Light we are looking for.”

“You already know who it is,” I asked incredulously. He nodded rapidly, his eyes beaming.

“You’ll see soon. You can keep that if you want,” he said gesturing at the Kieri. I began to thank him but he was already moving towards the next being. I wondered why he didn’t say anything to Kayumari if he suspected who The Light was but I trusted the vision would make all things clear.

When Tatutzi Nakawe was finished, he took his place again on my right and together, we sat gathered into concentric circles. Kayumari sat in the innermost circle next to the Yellow Musician. I swallowed nervously, but kept an open mind and open heart.

Kayumari cleared his throat and began to sing. I joined with him with a howl and began to ascend into the next plane...




Do you remember the Zooier Than Thou: Secret Zoo – Santa Claus sketch from Season 1? If not, have a listen! It’s woven from elements of true stories about Siberian (and likely pre-Colonial European Indigenous cultures’) shamans symbiotically using the divining power of Amanita Muscaria through collaboration with reindeer and how the fungi maintained its presence in mainstream society through its guise as Santa Claus. Stories like this in which Indigenous cultures commune with our animal relatives through the usage of various Grandfather Plant Medicines are told around the world. From Jaguars eating Yagé to my own People’s concurrent ceremonies with wolves, we can celebrate the rich interweaving of animal, human and divine through the use of Entheogens.

What is a Grandfather Plant Medicine, also known as an Entheogen? These sacred Plants and Fungi are both mind opening and perception re-aligning through their various psychoactive elements typically activated by consumption or smoking. Commonly discussed (in more Western Hemisphere circles) Entheogens include Ayahuasca, Hikuri (or Peyote and Huachuma which contains the same compound - Mescaline), Kieri (or Datura), Iboga, and Teonancatl (or Psilocybin Mushrooms). Depending on how much they’ve permeated Western society, they may be very accessible and used recreationally or primarily relegated to ceremonies in Indigenous communities in deserts or rainforests far from urban centers.

Grandfather Plant Medicines are powerful healers, long acknowledged by my own People who have been using Hikuri for at least ~6,000 years and now more recently by Western psychotherapists for therapeutic use. A growing body of Western scientific literature suggests “Tryptamines” which include the primary Entheogens and substances like LSD, help to create new neural connections in the brain and turn off the “default mode network” that governs our “default” behaviors. Indigenous Science, being an incredibly broad and culture-specific field, often speaks more from the perspective of the message the Grandfathers and Grandmothers wish to share with us and for us to share with the world. Wixárika Wolf Mara’akames, powerful shamans who use Hikuri, Kieri and Yekwa (mushrooms) to heal their subjects receive their powers directly from wolf spirits and revere our zooey ancestors.

[Image: nierika_gigante_2.jpg?v=1542329854]


Image of a Nierika or Wixárika yarn painting designed to communicate a message received by a plant medicine. Notice the speech lines coming from all animals, two-legged or four-legged.

I strongly recommend seeking out a Plant Medicine Ceremony for those who are looking to heal from trauma, make changes in their life or celebrate milestones. When seeking out a Ceremony, look carefully at different plant medicines and choose a shaman who is a vetted community member that works directly with the lineage of that People's medicines. Each Entheogen has its own qualities that it excels at and that's going to shape your experiences heavily. Above all, your shaman must accept and validate you as a zoo. Entheogens will not change your sexuality. If anything, they’ll reveal the hidden parts you must then integrate.

If happen to find yourself with the Grandfathers, even for a recreational experience, I have a few brief recommendations. Breathe. Stay present. Be kind to yourself. Have fun. Set an intention for something you want to explore. Pray for others. Spend time with loved ones. Spend time in nature. Integrate what you learn afterwards. The Zendo Project has other excellent guidelines that can be self-directed or if you find yourself in the position of a "trip sitter."

Feel free to check out The Burrow for more information and a direct path to a community that supports you as a zoo and integrates Plant Medicine Ceremonies. Do not hesitate to reach out with any questions. There’s more information in the Recreational Drugs thread on ZooCommunity and below in the Resources section.

Resources:

  • Ayahuasca Visions – The following YouTube clip is from a longer movie called Blueberry (2004) that has a fantastic and extremely realistic rendition of a Plant Medicine Ceremony. In the clip, the protagonist realizes his own role in hurting his first love and is able to let go his grudge against the antagonist and find new love
  • People of the Peyote – Fortunately found online by FidoFidelis, Chapter 9 discusses the Wolf Mara'akames more in-depth via an anthropological review of one named Ulu Temay. It's an excellent resource for learning about zoosexuality and plant medicine ceremonies. Check out the whole book if you're inclined, but do aware the anthropologists have cast their own slant on the material.
  • Psychonaut Wiki – Yay! Citizen science!
  • Chacruna – I have mixed emotions about Chacruna’s work (primarily concerned about zoosexuality erasure in the name of protecting the Grandfathers) but recommend it as a jumping off point for those looking to learn more about Sacred Plants.
  • MAPS – The primary source of Western scientific information on psychedelics and Entheogens.
  • A Jaguar enjoying some Yagé!



Information and raw emotion washed over me. I could hardly absorb it all, so I did not try to. I simply accepted what presented itself to me. Geometric shapes and colors raced around me until I found my breath, my rhythm. Suddenly -

Pain. Fear.

I was pulled into a nightmare, though I could not determine if it was my own or someone else’s. The faces of Tatewari and Tatutzi Nakawe swirled around me, hyperreal and grotesque in nature, morphing into each part of the nightmare. The heat and rain threatened to burn and drown me. As we intertwined, I felt a searing agony shooting through my being. An infinite number of planes presented themselves to me and on each I fought to escape, fighting against the two.

Try as I might, I could not leave, my strength ebbing. Time was unreal. All I could do was surrender. As I did, an image flashed in my mind of stone, each part of my flesh becoming rocky as their grasping mouths, hands and bodies sought to claim it – claim me. I was the Earth, caught in an eclipse, screaming for freedom until I could not anymore.

At the last moment I thought I could bear the feeling and still survive, I gave my all to the advice Kayumari had given. I focused on my breath and stayed present, no matter how unpleasant the feeling felt. In the distance, I began to hear a great galloping of paws. The Kieri I held in my palm gently drifted away, placing itself infinitely distant and yet next to me, opening itself before my eyes. From its center emerged five spectral wolves like myself, headed by a beautiful black and white female wearing a green, spiked hood. The moment I saw her, my heart sung. She was the opposite of me, my match, my counterpart. I reached out to her, my eyelids barely fluttering with the last of the power I had in my body.

Grabbing the scruff of my neck like a newborn, she cradled me, loping into a new plane. All others faded away.

“Who are you,” I asked my savior, my soul already knowing, having known her for an eternity and waiting for this very moment where we’d finally meet.

“I have many names. Some have been lost along the way, but you may call me Tziku Mayuwi.” I squinted my eyes, looking closer at her hood. It was living! It rippled into a thick-skinned plant with spines. The closer I looked, the more I saw. It was unending.

“Stand,” she commanded me. I did, pulling from some unknown reserve of energy inside me. “I must show you something. You will need this to overcome our next battles and become all that you are meant to be.” From a space beside us, she raised a paw, and pulled down, summoning a memory of a moment yet to come.

A tiny being wriggled, its eyes closed. The little one’s muzzle was almost comically short with a body that was thick and floppy, accented by four tiny paws. Her wet fur was matted to her skin. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. From the same place, a procession of these beings began to dance in front me.

“These are the Kumuketai. They are our children. They need you. Their children will need you.” They grew, creating their own generations before my eyes, until they stretched to vast distances I could not even begin to fathom. I looked at Tziku and nodded. She had told me all I needed to know.

“You were trapped in Kayumari’s dream. We must visit him.” Together, we strode across time and space, followed by the spectral wolves and the spirits of our unborn kin. Beneath us, I could see myself. I had fallen away from existence as a singular being. Instead, I had become a mantle, the first of my name and part of a greater whole. Each movement, each thought, every breath I took echoed through all of my incarnations. Each of these incarnations had their own lives, their own young. Some were closely related to others, some more distantly. All were incredible.

“Look,” Tziku pointed with her nose. I could see Kayumari as another incarnation of himself. He was trapped in a small building, the Yellow Musician nearby, looking wizened from many years of adventures, struggling with each breath. Kayumari was facing a mirror where the nightmare I had been trapped in before was playing itself out in a single infinite moment. In the nightmare, he had taken my place, being ravaged by Tatewari and Tatutzi Nakawe. With all of his might, he was praying for the Creator to accept him as The Light instead. Wait! That was it – the Yellow Musician was The Light! When Tatewari looked familiar, it was because some part of him shared something in common with the Yellow Musician!

“He needs your strength,” Tziku spoke and I understood. Entering the vision, I embraced him as he fell onto the ground. We were one being. I could feel himself sacrificing himself, willing himself to die. This infinite moment was the place of no change in our world and although the Yellow Musician was clearly ready to let go and be The Light, Kayumari was afraid to accept the newness and beauty that would bring. If he accepted what was, the long journey could be over and we could be free of the suffering brought by the denial.

I could see myself as I was now, a force of pure motion and radiance, lit by the love for my family. I would not let the stillness overtake us. “Wake up!” I howled deep in his soul. He stirred, if only barely. Sharing my heart with his, I showed him the Kumuketai and gradually he opened his eyes and smiled. “I will be there every step of the way,” I whispered to him beginning to sense the vision ending.

Before I left the vision, I saw everything that I was and had done in my life. I was proud. Gone was the weakened Kumukemai who did not know himself and who had suffered an unknowable amount of time in Kayumari’s vision. Here was a Being strengthened and tempered by their trials, ready to begin anew.

Stretching feeling back into my stiff legs back in our darkened home world, I was overjoyed to feel Tziku next to me. She would not leave me in any world and nothing would stand in the way of that. The other Beings were beginning to stir as they awoke from their trance.

“There she is! The Light!” yelled Tatutzi Nakawe pointing to another Being who had materialized during our vision. She was horrifying, a small two legger, the embodiment of Kayumari’s nightmare made flesh. The essence of the infinite moment made real.

“Here I am!” she delighted and giggled, looking mischievously at the circles of Beings.

“No!” I yelled, horrified as the others sitting in the vision cheered The False Light. All I could think was, "We must make this right."
A long time ago, before the Sun had first taken wing and the Gods were still young, there was darkness. This primordial place was warm but stagnation reigned. The world did not yet know all of what was possible and all the joy that was to exist.



Surfacing, I gasped, filling my lungs with my first breath. It was sharp, but not entirely unpleasant. Breathing above water was significantly colder and the air had an uncertain quality about it. In order to escape the grasp of the sea, my mind fought to grasp this chaotic newness. Small rainbow points of light whizzed around me, much the same as they did underwater, bringing me a small measure of comfort. My legs aching from fighting the sea’s grasp, I slurped another water-laden breath, focusing on the air traveling down into my lungs. Its resonance, its essence, was different from the water, but not entirely. It curled and swirled about quicker, more playfully than the waters, dancing inside me. Following the dance, I let it inhabit my body, giving me the strength to change gears and trudge my way towards the shore in the direction of the song that had brought me to this place.

Arriving, I dropped to all fours and retched out the rest of the water. The sand felt warmer than I had anticipated and distinctly solid. Above water, things must be more certain than they are below, I decided. Allowing my body to rest, I began to attune to this strange world. The sounds were much quieter, but my ears still reached to the far edges of creation. Sounds had gained a sharpness, an edge that fit this new place well. I could hear the song that brought me this way much, much closer! Slow, bowed notes played, accompanied by a quicker, melodic tune. Occasionally, the song would change with loud horn like instrumentation or long, drawn out ambiances that suggested a wonderful place outside the water. Leaning into the sound, I summoned it closer. By focusing on the energy, it drew nearer, distance quickly closing.

Opening my eyes, I saw the musicians approaching me. The taller musician glimmered a cool blue, protrusions of bone emerging in many points above his head like a crown. His feet were slender and smooth, each drawn into two points, shining darkly. The smaller musician kept pace, tapping out a measured melody with each paw and claw that touched the ground. A wreath of fur framed his face and it hung low beneath his chin. He blazed with golden laughter. Laughter! That’s what the sound was. The song was quickly becoming discernible, codifying into a conversation they spoke through their bodies, their breaths, the way the light gleamed off them and all of existence scintillating off their being. They looked my way and said, “Come Kumukemai, we’ve been waiting for you.”




We are the Wixáritari, one of the present-day colonial state of Mexico’s oldest Indigenous cultures (phrased as such since we’ve been around longer than the country itself!) We have been anarchic foragers and nomads, the most skilled of warriors and archers fighting tooth and nail against genocide and now, a tourist destination for psychedelic experiences fighting the pressures of Christianity and capitalism inside of our communities. Through it all, we have been wolves.

To understand what I mean, let me first explain with some brief history and anthropology. The following section is sourced with some bits of familial history, some bits academic research and others with what I can only refer to as “Indigenous Inclinations” (pagans, reconstructionists, and Indigenous Peoples – if you know, you know). United as the Chichimecas or “People Who Come From A Lineage of Dogs” according to our enemies, the Nahuas/Aztecs, the People were composed of seven fairly nebulous groups who roamed the southern deserts of Aridoamerica. I come from the largest group, known by our enemies as the Guachichils or “Those Who Paint Themselves Red.”

Life was fantastic. Food was abundant, clothing was optional, and communities were close-knit with zoosexuality as an integrated cultural pillar. The idea that you couldn’t talk to animals was a joke that’d be laughed off and left behind. Excellent hunters and foragers, we migrated seasonally with our four-legged companions in search of food and plants of power, such as the mescaline-containing cactus, Peyote or the moonflower, Kieri.


With time however, all things change. Around the year 1440, a vision was had that a great tragedy was coming. A portion of us split off and headed into the mountains and valleys of present-day Jalisco and Nayarit. Every year those who left returned, greeting us as their brothers and sisters and collecting Hikuri or Peyote, which did not grow in their new home. The Spanish arrived in the homelands not long after, condemning our way of life and coveting the silver in our sacred mountains. Those who remained battled fiercely to protect the land, our way of life and our animal companions in what is known as The Chichimeca War. The few who survived this conflict were consumed by the capitalist war machine that valued them only as fodder to reproduce more labor. Some were integrated into Christian Catholic society while others were enslaved in the silver mines, forced to put any queer desires into hiding to survive. I am one of their descendants and the pain quakes through my family even today.

Meanwhile, the rest of the Wixárika, who had journeyed to a far-off home, continued their migrations, evading much of the genocide and maintaining a good portion of our cultural identity. According to our survivors, we emerged from the sea or a great flood to search for the sun in two-legged and four-legged forms. Our progenitors were always either wolves or we descended from a pair that would be considered a human and a dog (likely a Calupoh or Xoloitzcuintle) by Western standards, hence “we have been wolves.” There’s a bit more Indigenous Science I’ll go into in a future installment. For now, I’ve included some videos highlighting different perspectives on the same Creation Story I have encapsulated this series in that are quite enjoyable to watch.

Takutzi Nakawe: https://youtu.be/seZt5Tc6NR4

The First Sunrise: https://68voces.mx/huichol-el-primer-amanecer

Every year (or sometimes every two), the Wixárika still make the journey to our Ancestors’ original homeland, Wirikuta. The ceremony is conducted by our shamans, Mara’akames, who have incredible abilities of healing and communing with animals. Throughout the journey, offerings are made and sacred sites are honored. Upon arrival in Wirikuta, the People (and trusted individuals) consume Peyote and formally become the Gods who took part in the first sunrise. Our Creation Story is not something that happened once, it’s something that reiterates every year, sharing in new joy and adventures for everyone.

As Wixáritari, we have thousands of years of knowledge when it comes to communing and joining with our animal companions. I can think of no other community I’d rather share this insight with than the online zoo community who has been so welcoming to me. Check for the future installments of this series to discuss plant medicines and perspectives on other-than-human modes of communication, Indigenous science and cosmological perspectives on zoosexuality, the future of the Wixárika and wolf conservation efforts in the Sierra Madre Occidental, and how to move forward. I hope this can be the beginning of some awesome connections.



Me? Why me?” The pair looked at each other, puzzled at my question. The smaller one took several bounds towards me. Although we looked very different, his face short with a rounded jaw almost tucked into his skull, and mine long, I sensed we were beings of a similar nature. I was eager for a response.

The two began a new song. This was unmistakably birthed from deep within their hearts. A whistling howl shimmered and shook the air before quieting. Erupting into dance, the two created a beat. This swirling commotion sucked light towards them, amassing it in a radiant display. It built slowly, ebbing and flowing in a rhythm that invited collaboration. I found my feet shuffling along! Suddenly, the light and song burst forth, crawling upward into the sky. At the right moment the two became one, making the light snake beam forth illuminating all the land, the mountains, the waters. Things I had never even dreamed of before, I could now see. I was enraptured.

This light was the intersection of all being. It was creativity honed into a fine point, a true expression of love and light. Had it created what it showed us or simply gave us the ability to recognize what we already knew? Did it matter? If it didn’t, then what did? The light ribbons continued their dance across the sky, scintillating into different hues of purple and green. These two were as one and seeing them as distinct beings seemed foolish to me now.

Without warning, the lights stopped, fading away. “What happened?” I demanded. The Yellow Musician nodded at me and then up at the sky. The last part of the melody began once more but was cut short. It couldn’t continue. Why was this? He again nodded at me. I listened carefully to the quality of the music. It was filled with immeasurable beauty but… something was missing, something needed to continue its progression. As I considered it more carefully, I realized many more notes and instruments – beings! would make this even more incredible and would build-up what was brought forth into existence.



Look,” spoke the Blue Musician pointing at myself. I looked down at my body, covered in thick fur. The small multi-colored points of light had begun to collect and coalesce into crackling beams shooting off of my body. The colors! I had always assumed they were everywhere, but in this moment I could see they were unique to me. Realizing their song would not have been possible without these colors and that the miraculous lights in the sky came in part from me, I began to weep tears of joy.


We can do more. We must bring this into being for good. The rainbow all around you will aid in this journey. Come Kumukemai, it’s time for you to meet the others.”
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