Structuring and Uncertainty
The morning was spent looking at how to shape the website and guides for retreats — the flow that will welcome people into the New Earth journey. I reached out to Annalie, asking what she might want as a guide and how she could contribute. She wanted to be paid, but neither of us is in that position right now (her to work for free and me to pay).
This is the tension of leaving the Old Earth behind: money fading, certainty dissolving, and routine scattering as I prepare to leave here. I chose this path. I could have fought to keep what was mine, but I didn’t. Instead, I live in the paradox — facing uncertainty, learning to trust that even certainty itself is illusion.
Meeting Max and the Search for Glue
Later, I met Max. He called me a poster child for iboga, and he looked at me with the sense that who I am now will not be the same when I return. And he’s right. Transformation doesn’t preserve the old version.
Max spoke about the glue — that thing people meet him through, like his bodywork, which then connects them to all else he offers. It left me asking: what is my glue? Is it the parasite cleanse? The breathing? Retreats? What is it that draws people in, making them want to know more? This question lingers as I keep weaving the New Earth.
We touched on Super Ted, I grew up watching. We looked at the intro and a lot of it mirrored my own life, the influence these things has on our subconscious is crazy. He was rejected, but an alien craft picked him up. He met a woman who gave him cosmic dust and a spoonful of “medicine,” and he became Super Ted… yes.
Temple, Packing, and Tiredness
I stopped at the Hoo Temple, caught up with friends, and even joined in with a musician visiting from the States. Laughter, lightness, presence. But the weight returned when I faced my room again — packing, choosing what to leave, what to carry, whether to keep paying rent for an empty space. So many uncertainties. By evening, I was simply tired.
Boundaries and Entanglements
The team call brought Pen and Annalie into the space. Pen looked unsettled, unable to offer support on the website. I caught up with her afterwards, and what unfolded was deep.
We spoke about the entanglements between us — friend, editor, coach — and how unclear boundaries have created a toxic undercurrent. With money, everyone knows where they stand. Without it, roles blur. I felt like I was using her without paying, so I overcompensated with time and attention. She appreciated it, but inside I still felt wrong.
The truth is, I don’t always feel like I have skills. Editing is a skill, bodywork is a skill, but what about me? What do I bring that is tangible, quantifiable?
The Gift of Receiving
And then Pen spoke words that broke me open. She said she would edit the book for no charge. That this was her service, and that I didn’t have to give her anything — just learn how to receive.
I cried. Because receiving is something I still struggle with. I overcompensate, I do, I give — all to avoid the fear of abandonment. To have her speak that truth was like hearing an angel. It touched the part of me that still feels unworthy of simply being.
Closing Note
Heaviness, uncertainty, boundaries, glue, receiving — all of it is the passage I walk. The New Earth requires me to trust, to shed the illusions of certainty, to find the glue that is mine, and to let myself receive.
Even when tired, even when overwhelmed, the truth arrives through presence, humility, and the willingness to cry.
