Mystic Mulefat and the Mad Apothecary

An excerpt from something I am writing.

"By 2005, curiosity had replaced fear, a sense of adventure and admiration had replaced skepticism, but he had still never ‘seen’ anything, with the exception of a door being pounded in by an invisible presence. In many ways this day was like all the others before it. Our honeymoon with vodka and cherry juice breakfasts had faded and been replaced by a growing fascination with the natural world and alchemy. My apothecary soul had been unleashed into a mad scientist search for the perfect aphrodisiacs and third-eye opening herbal elixirs. As always, my ritual preparation for a channeling session started with sipping cherry juice infused with local sage and sage brush. I'd eaten a typical LA dinner (a composition of pea sprouts, cherimoya, avocado, and mizuna, topped with tahini and lotus root), taken a 3 ½ mile jog in Temescal Canyon and gotten to sleep by 11pm to awake at 3:30am by radio alarm clock.

That daily jog along the backbone trail that dumped my husband and I onto a pebbly creek bed of night-blooming Mulefat, had become a necessary part our urban mental health ritual. Other trails paled in comparison with my discovery of Mulefat, an indigenous plant one can only presume gained its namesake from having a reputation for putting weight on mules at some point in history. After ascertaining which plant was responsible for the intoxicating aroma, I had identified it in one of my local plant species volumes. Latin name Baccharis salicifolia, also known as Seep Willow or Water-Wally. Googling it, revealed nothing of its magical powers. Leaving me with only my euphoric impressions and later experiments, as Mulefat took up residence in my heart.

The fragrance of this magical plant had the gift to transport us, project our astral bodies beyond the bounds of our physical forms into the early evening air. But, only if we kept up the velocity in our running-descent down the mountain. My method was to run with my head and arms stalking closer and closer to the forest floor. As we got further down into the basin, the energy was so vibrant, that clarity was obfuscated by the thick realms within realms of the plant kingdom. The dim lighting could not account for such a distinct lack of visibility. One had no choice but to awaken all the senses to navigate. In such holy places, everything is alive. Dark and light are equally represented in their full grandeur. And tricksters like to role play, regardless of their anatomy, enjoying the drama of playing with the human mind.

Timid at first, my response to the intensity of this darkening trail grew bolder with time. Eventually, bounding over creekside mudflats I found myself imagining what a panther might feel as her torso stretches parallel to the ground, cooled by its emanations. Lunging forward at full speed, with muscles burning like a native cat with air born paws, sprinting through the woods, around every familiar twist and turn, giving no pause to dodge trees and roots in path. Communicating with the sonar-like-sense of forest creatures who are in telepathic resonance with the deep meditation of all leafy creatures big and small. The essence of plant medicine, calling us into the rocky bed of euphoria and propelling us out of our bodies as we reached the holy land. Our spirits in seeming defiance of gravity, similar to out-of-body travels during soulful love making. Except that unlike the latter where you and your lover tumble through the cosmos in a pulsing, rainbow-colored throbbing, creaming from every chakra, and igniting your ethereal fuses from pleasure zone to pleasure zone exploding lotuses in fireworks running through the activating electric wires of your ancient souls...your ascension via this dry creek bed of Southern Californian Mulefat is like the flight of condors off a pine tree, leaping heavenward, and soaring on the invisible hands of the wind. Blissful like ecstatic children whose joy extends through their fingertips and toes. Your full magnetic heartlights filling your entire bodies with white light and casting outward rays merging with all that is. You are upheld by the frequency of joy emanating from the Universe, your bodies running automatically, as you dodge around the large plants forming conscious silhouettes around you. The moonscape now reflective with awe.

These sorts of things are always there. The magical plants, the layers of earthly experience, the access to the astral plane. It is our perspective that changes and allows us to engage with the unknown. When we focus our attention, our world around us shifts. You can seek with your heart, soul or your mind. But often in my practice I see that when a person is seeking with his heart or soul, with the mind trudging along behind ambivalently or sometimes contumaciously. It may attempt to intervene in the soul's self discovery. Not so shockingly, in an attempt to protect the spirit from the unknown, the mind may be quick to judge. It may be quick to defend its beliefs, patterns, and territory. The mind may lure the soul and the heart away from the present moment, even from revelations and growth.

And, if conversely the mind does goes along for the ride, rolling its eyes from the backseat with the heart riding shotgun and the soul at the wheel, he may be damn surprised at what you found, when you weren't looking. With the psychic senses, one must only look in the places in between what we witness with our eyes, ears, and hands. One must confront the spaces in between what we allow ourselves to accept as tangible, possible, and safe."