Life is one big road with lots of changes, and the other evening in Iquitos, Peru I witnessed three-in-one. I stopped by an ex-patriot’s home who was grudgingly entertaining a lone figure propped on a hard chair in in front of the living room television. To his credit, the screen was blank with no volume.  Yet the young man stared intently for five minutes. My friend advised that the visitor was a lucid dream instructor who hadn’t moved from the position for hours.

He was covered from toe to head with wounds in the form of recent scratches and scabs, and lathered in Iodine solution. ‘What happened?’ I asked. ‘Five days ago,’ the ex-pat described…

The young man took his first ayahuasca, the most powerful hallucinogen which in the past decade has given rise to ayahuasca tourism, that now ranks 2nd behind Machu Pichu in sheer numbers of drawn. Ten years ago, only a handful of weekly seekers arrived to hike the long jungle paths to an ayashuascero. Five years ago, ‘fast food shamans’, including many gringo wannabes, tipped the cup to thousands of annual visitors seeking, and receiving, visions and medical cures. Three years ago, I predicted that the first person to extract, freeze dry or powder ayahuasca would make a fortune, and perhaps alter the world’s consciousness. Then, one month ago, the first million dollar (street value) shipment of ayahuasca extract was legally shipped to Holland.

Ayahuasca is called liquid psychiatrist, and is a shape shifter as the imbiber becomes something he wasn’t minutes before drinking three ounces.

The young man turned into a jaguar. He opened his eyes, and was trapped inside a wooden jungle hut on stilts with five other people around him who had become something else. ‘I am a jaguar!,’ he screamed, and big cats cannot be caged. He leaped on the wall with finger and toenails clawing the old nails and broken slats, working around the hut in a fury to escape. The bamboo slat floor dripped blood when he was finally released into the jungle.

The next night he returned and prevailed on the shaman to drink again. This time, wisely, outside the hut, he became a white crane. He spread his long arms and dove headfirst into a pan of water.

His next reality was the Iquitos hospital with IV tubes struck in each wrist. On the third day, he was released from the hospital into the care and living room of the ex-patriot. ‘Is he a couch potato?’ my friend asked. I replied, ‘Perhaps,’ but he has to snap out of it by tomorrow to go teach his next worship.’

And he mustered it.

Colin Powell said, ’A dream doesn’t become reality through magic; it takes sweat, determination and hard work.’ However, I predict the world is going the easy road to become a new menagerie.