Nature Loves Courage

Written by SGC Member, Christina Deal

My first exposure to Terrence McKenna was in 1995. I was perusing the offerings on
psychedelic culture at the Anarchist’s Bookstore in the Haight-Ashbury. True Hallucinations
caught my eye, and after a quick back cover read, home it went to my tiny North Beach sublet. I
quickly consumed page after page – some, two or three times over – trying to assimilate
Mckenna’s weird and wonderful journey into my young, twenty-something brain. Though I
lacked the life experience and knowledge to fully grasp the entirety of his captivating journey, I
did understand that I was reading something deeply seductive, infinitely strange, and wildly
subversive.

The thirty-something years since my first Mckenna reading have not dampened my curiosity into
psychedelic culture. Since then, I’ve explored the labyrinths of my own consciousness, and
studied all manner of esoteric and occult philosophies, religions, and heretical teachings,
traditions, and secret societies. I like to think I share a common curiosity with Terrence. Perhaps
in another lifetime we could have been friends and engaged in spirited conversations on the
philosopher’s stone, sputtering Latin alchemical phrases to one another in the afterglow of our
cosmic mind expeditions. If not in this now, then maybe somewhere in the 8 th dimension.
I’m fifty-four now and a Jungian life coach, deeply invested in making the unconscious
conscious and called to help others understand just how dramatically and efficiently psychedelics
can aid in this process. I’ve been an active member and practitioner with Sacred Garden for the
last few years—a community that has studied and knows the work of Terrence Mckenna, and in
many cases, collaborated directly with him. I’m not going to lie– it feels pretty cool hanging with
the OGs.

When the Opihihale retreat email landed in my inbox I remembered myself as a curious twenty-
something and realized thirty-odd years had passed since the fateful day I pulled True
Hallucinations off the bookshelf. And somehow, all that had transpired from then until now had
led me to this moment, this email, and the unmistakable call of my inner voice screaming, “The
time is now. Go!” Not being one to ignore a strong, electric “yes,” I sent my reply, made my
payment, and booked my flights.

Eight short weeks later I am stepping off a plane in Kona, Hawaii. I’ve made initial mid-flight
contact with two of my retreat companions on our flight from San Francisco and we make our
way to the curb together, sharing our excitement about the week ahead. We didn’t wait long
before Carolyn rolled up, smiling warmly and welcoming us to the island. We pile in the van and
go on to fetch more of our Sacred Garden travelers arriving for the week. As we approached
Opihihale, the jungle path that winds its way upward to the main house came into view.
Abundant Chacruna, and snaking Caapi vines silently welcomed us as we sank our feet, step-by-
step, into the soft, damp jungle floor. Uncle, the resident canine, jungle guardian gazed upon us
with curiosity as we approached the house and let out a bark, letting us know he was there and
keeping a watchful eye on us.

We ascended the black lava rock stairs to the main deck of the house. That evening and the days
and nights that followed were spent integrating, socializing, and talking into the early hours on
that deck accompanied by a jungle symphony of frogs, insects, and mysterious creatures
answering the call of the lunar orchestra conductor’s hand. The next evening, we kicked-off the

week with the Heart Ceremony, the first of four ceremonies. The Heart Ceremony was an
expertly timed opener to a week filled with deep connections, to ourselves, to the environment,
and to each other. Insights came rapidly, surprisingly, and joyously as we moved through the
experience of getting to know each other free from anxiety or uncertainty in a safe space,
expertly stewarded by our attuned facilitators.

The days that followed were filled with tending to and deepening our relationships with sacred
plants, and the land that grows them through harvesting, preparing sacraments, storytelling, and
song. We made short excursions to the beach, to cultural landmarks and we delighted in local
culinary treats, infusing our sacred practices and ceremonies with soul-level connections to the
living spirit of the island, and Opihihale’s magical history and presence.

Next, we shared sacred ceremonial space and went deep into the dreamtime with the
Roundhouse ceremony where at dusk from the West windows of the “spaceship mansion” we
watched the sun and ocean merge. We engaged at warp speed through the multidimensional land
and mindscapes that unraveled in the Redwood Ceremonies, laughing, crying, singing, and
dancing in honor of all that has, and will continue to emerge.

I’ve been home just a little more than a week now, and I’ve noticed a quiet absence in the days
that have followed. There’s a subtle yet sharp difference now. The echoes of the relentless
engine of hyper-productivity to be always doing, always producing, always outputting is now
missing. And in its place there is a newfound calmness – still waters, cool, and undisturbed. This
is not inertia, nor is it a lack of purpose; it is a trust. It is an unspoken assurance that, like the
sacred bloom unfolding in its own time, all things will arrive when they are ready. It’s a tender
whisper reminding me that sometimes, the greatest progress is found in surrender.

It’s no small endeavor to throw yourself into the abyss. I entered this sacred journey alone, with
no idea who I would meet, or what I would be experiencing for the week beyond the typed
agenda. I was admittedly more than a little apprehensive and nervous, but I trusted in the idea of
some strange and irresistible call to say yes. And from that trust one truth emerged again and
again, a favorite and much-loved quote by the traveler extraordinaire himself, Terrance
McKenna, “Nature loves courage. You make the commitment, and nature will respond to that
commitment by removing impossible obstacles. Dream the impossible dream and the world will
not grind you under, it will lift you up. This is the trick. This is what all these teachers and
philosophers who really counted, who really touched the alchemical gold, this is what they
understood. This is the shamanic dance in the waterfall. This is how magic is done. By hurling
yourself into the abyss and discovering it's a feather bed.”