The mountains that surround San Jose Del Pacifico are shrouded in grey blankets of clouds. Every hour or so the sun appears from behind the mist-made-blankets to warm the brilliant green pastures and cloud forests. Hummingbirds zoom past in search of sucrose-laden flowers. Sterling Jays squawk at one another to communicate something of importance – maybe the death of a fellow jay or the location of a new food source. The lands that comprise the coastal range of Oaxaca are full of beauty and life/consciousness. I can feel it as I walk down the path from my hobbit-like cabina, where I am staying, to the Refugio de La Tierra for a garden-to-table breakfast.

These lands are imbued with a special energy. The moist and cool conditions that have permitted the existence of the cloud forests of Oaxaca have also spawned Derrumbe (the local common name for a small magic mushroom).

The indigenous peoples of the region have been using these plants in ceremony for centuries, and tourists, like myself, have taken notice. Over 50 years ago the likes of John Lennon and other hippies came here seeking truth. I sought out this region, because I wanted to partake in ceremony. I wanted to feel the language of the mushroom. I also desire truth.

I purchased some derrumbe from a local woman on the side of the street. It seemed rather un-ceremonial to purchase such a special plant this way. But, after 500 years of Spanish conquistadors illegalizing and stigmatizing the use of mushrooms in ceremony indigenous people have been forced to go “underground” with their plant ceremonies. Though, thankfully, as of recently, the federal government and local police have turned-a-blind-eye to the sale and consumption of the mushrooms in the region. So, folks like me can purchase the plants with a sense of security and indigenous peoples can begin to reclaim their ceremonial cultures.

Yet, the damage has been done. Shamans are hard to come by. Ceremonies are mostly personal. The culture of the consumption of mushrooms by the local indigenous peoples has undoubtedly been morphed. A culture of mushrooms exists, but it is a fragmented one. It is now one where I can buy the medicine of the fungi on the side of the highway.

I took my mushrooms via tea. With my intentions set I decided to go for a walk to a waterfall by myself and let the forest be my guide.

I felt many things. I felt and saw many truths. And, importantly I felt assured that I was doing what I am supposed to be doing.

When I started this motorcycle ride I didn’t know where I was headed or what I was doing. I was considering using the ride to bounce me into a consultancy position on the topic of food sovereignty and sustainable agriculture – like a metaphorical career trampoline. Yet, that is not what has unfolded. The ride naturally became a way for me to tap into joy. I have found myself wanting to see beautiful places, meet new people, and eat great food. So, that is what I have done. I have sought joy.

In a way, I feel the motorcycle ride is reorienting the way I live. I am now starting to feel that my way of living is changing. For a long time I believed that I had to do things that were hard and challenging. I had to go to graduate school. I had to ride my bike across the U.S. I had to learn Spanish. I had to. I had to…

Instead, I now realize that I get to… I get to travel by motorcycle around Latin America. I get to experience beauty. I get to wake up with a healthy body and mind. I get to do things that are challenging. But I also get to enjoy.

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