We all spoke to each other with the aim to get further acquainted. Raul, the oldest one between us, who was across from me was a sorcerer’s apprentice. Octavio who was next to him was a younger man who lived in Colima and frequented his family’s cabin to make it available for ceremonial rituals as the one we were about to partake in. His whole purpose was to be of unconditional service to those who sought him. Racso, who picked us up at the bus station and drove us into the mountains, organized the entire thing with Dicer. He sat next to Octavio. He was a light worker and healer who traveled extensively throughout Mexico providing his services to people who wanted to heal and evolve into their best version of self. I sat next to him. To my right was Bunnee and Galaxy. And next to them was Dicer who I consider to be a grey sorcerer because he exists in the center of any circumstance. He can both go to the light and lead you to it or he can take you into the depths of darkness if you so desire. Either way, he always goes back to his center state of being. Never stuck on either side.
The sunset passed and the nighttime arrived bringing forth a lot of magic. Thunder and lightning gave us all an audio and visual alimentation to our body and souls. The indigenous animals began to communicate. As if that was his cue, Octavio stood up and began to prepare the water for the tea and placed the mushrooms in the center next to the fire that burned.
“It is time we began. As much as I would love to facilitate this sacred ceremony, it will not be me. I need you, the one that will guide us tonight to step forward,” Racso said.
I looked around. All the men sat still looking into the fire. Then I noticed that the fire was wavering towards Bunnee. The light of the fire and the lightning intensified on her face. She looked angelic. Half her face was in red tones due to the fire and her other half was in blue tones due to the lightning, I could not stop staring at her.
“I’ll facilitate this ceremony,” Bunnee firmly said.
She grabbed the mushrooms and began to wash them in water. As she cleansed them from the dirt they carried she would say a prayer. Everything that she did, she did in prayer. That prayer became a song. Her voice was angelic – the words that channeled through her were divine truth.
I then recognized her voice. She was the angel I would hear singing in the background of some of my time-traveling experiences. Eight and Thirty-Six had told me that I would meet her at crucial time of my life. They were right.