We touched down in Montego Bay 11:30am half hour through customs. We walked out into a sea of people, its hot and unpolished. The major resorts have lounges for guests who did not wish to be out in open population.
“Wagwan man? Where you want to go?”
“Coral Cove, over little bay.”
“$100 man.”
“I have a driver, I’m just looking for him. Thank you!”
“Ok if you don’t find him, I take you, name’s Jerry.”
“Thank you brother, I appreciate you.”
I later learned, appreciate is not a proper term and to use appreciLOVE you. Rastafarian language philosophy reshapes words to carry a more positive or truthful vibration. For example, everliving may be used instead of “everlasting,” because “lasting” suggests something that could eventually end, while “living” feels alive and ongoing. “Downpression” instead of “oppression,” because why should oppression contain the word “up” when it’s really about being pushed down? Others say “overstand” instead of “understand,” because true wisdom comes from seeing from a higher perspective, not standing under something. It’s a reminder that language is not just communication, words carry energy, vibration, and consciousness.
I got hit up by every taxi driver outside that airport, but everyone was cool. It wasn’t stress. They made it fun, friendly and welcoming. Jamaica has a directness to it that feels alive instead of aggressive.
“I’m looking for Kountry, he’s our driver to Coral Cove.”
“Kountry? Kountry?”
“Yea I guess, I’m asking you?”
People started asking around. A man walks up and says something about taking us to “Kountry Kountry.” I guess that’s a resort. This was not our Kountry.
I’m sorting this out while Phil stands in the sun with his shirt off.
Magnus still isn’t here but I need to find the driver for when he does arrive. I call Simon on WhatsApp. WhatsApp doesn’t work. So I call his phone directly. He answers and tells me to use the airport WiFi and viao la, we find Kountry.
Young, black, slick, good vibes, good man. Extraordinarily friendly and sharp. He spoke about his pursuits in business and asked if I could hook him up with an American wife. He said she doesn’t have to be too thin, it’s OK, but someone he could build a business and family with together.
We get in the van. Comfortable. AC blasting. Reggae music. Music videos playing in the center console. Warm air outside. Shirt off. Magnus sleeping. Phil vibing.
We picked up First Man, our guide. Nearly seven feet tall with incredible calm and presence. Peacefulness. Deep rooted energy.
We stopped at a Chinese shop. Chinese families have played a major role in Jamaican commerce for generations, arriving largely in the 1800s and becoming deeply woven into local business culture groceries, retail and construction. I even saw construction signs with Chinese characters while driving across the island. Jamaica is layered with history and migration from all over the world.
We drove for a couple hours over bumpy roads and stopped for lunch.
Jerk chicken. Jerk pork. Big piles of lumber burning in the open fire, slow smoking over coals and bamboo. Fire. $100 Food is expensive on the island.
Phil and I walked into the kitchen taking photos. Everyone was cool and excited to show us what they were doing. We got cow skin soup.
Hours later I saw the sign for Coral Cove. I could see the ocean peaking out behind the roadside properties. We entered through beautiful white shell pathways. White buildings with open seating and balconies overlooking bright blue ocean water and crashing waves. Low trees bending over the sand like giant bonsai.
We have arrived.
Back to Life
I’m exhausted. Lying on a mat with fire smoke blowing over me. High off mushrooms. Waves crashing. Looking up at the trees. Brown glass jugs burning white cloth wicks. Thick black smoke. Beautiful warm orange light.
After a 4am wake up, two flights and a three hour car ride… I’m on mushrooms. Stressed. Rolling around trying to figure out if I’m hot or cold.
“Shouldn’t I be cold? next to the ocean at night… but I’m sweating?”
Restless. Very restless.
My message through this trip was to release the desires of the lower self and step into my higher purpose of life. It felt like I was wrestling with that lower part of myself that wishes to hold us down in the stress and suffering of our lives, that is afraid to let you see the beauty of the light above, the heavenly experience where the ego is unwelcomed.
I’d been smoking pot at night and wanted that Jamaican ganga to soothe me, calm my nerves, but it didn’t come. So I twisted and turned. Finally I walked out to the bluff and let the waves crash up and spray on my feet.
I chanted Ra Ma Da Sa into the ocean for ten minutes. It’s part of my daily practice for a Monday study group we have.
That relieved it. It broke the struggle.
Life is beautiful. I am under the stars in Jamaica next to the sea and under the moon.
How good must life be to be happy?
I am the ultimate. All joy and praise spring from me and surround me with life and abundance.
Thank you Jamaica for your welcome. Bless onto you and the people of your kingdom. I and I, the spirit of God.
Rastafari.
Day 2
Meet MJ. She’s touring us around the roads. A strong, assertive, beautiful, natural herbalist. She knew all the local herbs, fruits, flowers and secret bat caves…the light in the cave was mesmerizing, we took beautiful photos.
We walked through schools, jungle and cannabis farms. The sun is bright and warm. It feels alive and blessed to be out of the downpression of Boston’s cold spring and winter.
MJ introduced us to Boo. He walked us through his property and out to the ocean. We stood on a block he said belonged to Bob Marley. There had been a Rasta carving in the tree for decades that was recently stolen, sawed out and taken.
I got a piece of coral for my altar. One day when I have my beach house it will be my ashtray. Coral ashtray from Bob Marley’s place in Little Bay, Westmoreland Jamaica.
Next we went into an underground fresh water cold pool. Emerald sapphire blue, perfectly clear and cool. First time I felt cold since arriving in Jamaica.
We took photos. Maria, Julia, Phil, Erick. Lovely people from Florida who connected through Simon’s Le Sound Temple in Fort Lauderdale.
Magnus went swimming in his underwear. Bright colored and cartoonish. That’s all I remember.
We walked back. It was a hoof and it was hot. Then we went into the sweat lodge. Chanting. Laughing. Steam. Humidity.
Day 3
I rested in the morning. Went into the ocean and rode waves with John. Blonde, tan, Viking looking man. Sides of his head shaved but long blond hair and jacked up. Very cool. He had visited a local cannabis farm when we did our tour with MJ.
We bounced around in the waves. I snorkeled. Life is good.
Phil told me he had a rough first night and had to retreat to his room. Over exhausted.
“I can’t trip again… that was too much.”
But now we’re rested. Sun bathed. Well fed. The group feels connected.
Gentry an older woman about seventy talked about mescaline — she pronounced it “mescaleen.” She was deeply into TM and the seven day Joe Dispenza workshops. Hardcore.
One night at dinner she mentioned she had been with a man who had children. I asked how that relationship worked because I’m divorced with two daughters and genuinely curious about blended family dynamics.
She said it was beautiful. She was on a yoga and meditation journey. She saw cartoons on the mushrooms and loved it, but also said:
“I will come back, but not to take drugs. It was a beautiful experience. I don’t need more.”
Second Ceremony
The wrestling was over. I was rested. I let myself be hugged by the water. Warmed by the sun. Tickled by sand on my feet. I was trying to be tough and connected to the earth walking around barefoot and got stabbed by a few thorns and some sharp coral..I also got some kind of bite on my big toe that really itched and and another one in the arch of my foot that had me scratching the sole of my foot for 2 days after I got home…but enough about that.
Again, we laid on our mats in the sand, under the trees as the sun went down, waves crashing around us.
Our guides First Man, most high. Great blessings and honor to your guidance. Your view stretched as far as the balconies overlooking the water. Calm and safe vision. Steadiness. Deep rooted bongo spirit of the trees with towering height and strong voice.
Sita is divine feminine mother energy. Her voice carries you if you let it. Into the sea. Into the air. I felt the light and spirit of Jamaica through her voice.
Sugar free tended the fire, built with rocks in the shape of a pentagram. He would smoke joints of ganga and absolutely cooked the drums this night. Those drums took me out of worry and stress and into movement. Maria said at breakfast she was amazed I could dance that long.
One brother who will remain unnamed started yelling loudly about going to the light, angry grunts echoing through the ceremony. Barbie and her husband Eric were canoodling and clearly deeply in love.
I couldn’t take the yelling anymore so I asked Phil if he’d walk out to the bluff with me. Of course he was down.
We stood there under the stars with the moon shining bright and talked about the retreats we started in Maine and how beautiful June is going to be.
Life is good.
It’s a dream come true to stand on this land with my friend who I met at the very first Psychedelic Breathwork. Life is a joyful miracle.
Phil says something like:
“I accept, receive and transmit the love of the universe.”
Zen business.
Magnus my true homie — I will see you in Warsaw. Prepare the tanks.
We’ll take mushrooms in the mountains of Poland with Harvard scientists. National Geographic, hello.
Later that night I opened up about tension back home. About projects, leadership, community and the strange dynamics that can happen when something beautiful starts growing quickly.
I realized part of why I came to Jamaica was healing. Clarity. Perspective.
To remember I cannot work from competition, resentment or energetic heaviness.
I want people to build their own paths. Their own offerings. Their own greatness. But harmony matters. Timing matters. Unity matters.
When we worked together from that spirit, the arrow flew straight.
Jamaica reminded me that I want my life rooted in love, collaboration, nature, spirit and truth.
So either we move closer together in alignment… or we bless each other and walk different paths with love.
Great thanks and praise to Simon for bringing us together on this island. I know he has deep teachings to share. Josh for his care and protection, gentle and wonderful soul. Also very tall and jacked. Ryan Sprague and Josh would vibe heavy.
I want to focus on new projects. Healing. Plant medicines. Meditation. Community.
Jamaica will become my winter home. Through the blessings of the Most High may I surrender to the spirit of Mother Jamaica.
Thank you for your grace, kindness, gratitude and joy. Rastafari.
Day 4
Integration day. Everyone shared.
Barbie and Eric — who own a private jet — said it was one of the top experiences they had ever had with plant medicine.
I agreed. One of the most beautiful and invigorating experiences of my life.
Rob didn’t share much. He looked like Mr. Big from Sex and the City. I liked Rob very much. We seemed to understand each other naturally and effortlessly.
Every breakfast was oatmeal, fresh pineapple, watermelon, eggs and peanut butter.
It felt so healthy sitting beside the blue ocean talking about spirituality, emotion, gratitude and joy with open hearted people.
Everyone working at Coral Cove was sweet, kind and generous. Great blessings and gratitude for their care and effort.
I smoked pot with John from the weed farm visit. It was swag honestly, but hey, I smoked Jamaican sun grown ganga.
Most high. Peace to the earth and sun and rain for this blessed herb. For the joy and pleasure brought through light and spirit. Blessings and honor to I and I. Rastafari.
After smoking, Jeff — probably the funniest and brightest spirit in the group — joined us. Funny, experienced, connected. He had lived in a Buddhist monastery for seven years.
We chanted together.
Gentry and Erick did not indulge in cannabis. Maybe Jeff did. I’m not sure.
Day 5
Magnus and I took kayaks out through the surf and into the bay. Beautiful stately properties and lush jungle all around us.
There was a giant catamaran up on the coral wall. A man started yelling and waving us toward shore.
It was Boo.
“Hey! It’s me, Boo from Bob Marley House!”
He just wanted to say hi. Good neighbor energy.
Great respect and blessings. And honestly — when you visit Jamaica, bring cash and tip people generously. Hospitality there comes from the heart and it deserves gratitude in return.
I drove back to Montego Bay with Kountry and we went for lunch. Coconut curried red snapper with pumpkin. Beautiful dish. I truly didn’t have a bad meal in Jamaica.
At the airport Margaritaville I drank a Red Stripe and a strawberry daiquiri. Not because I needed it, but because Magnus posted a frozen drink the color of the Jamaican flag and suddenly I craved it.
Blessings that I may enjoy these luxuries and sleep on the plane.
Miami, 9pm. Flights delayed. I talked on the phone for two hours in the airport. Slept a little on the plane. Figured out WiFi and watched Sean Strickland defeat Khamzat Chimaev.
Then suddenly…
Jamaica was soul opening. Beautiful. Healing.
I danced with Jamaica and I know I will return again.
Not just for mushrooms.
Not just for the ocean.
Not just for the music or the people.
But because something there reminded me to love life again.
To slow down.
To heal.
To receive.
To laugh.
To dance barefoot under the stars.
To remember gratitude.
To remember spirit.
Praise the Most High for these blessings I and I.
Rastafari.
I am planning a return trip to Coral Cove Jamaica August 10-14th for the peak of the perseids meteor shower. We will have another mushroom ceremony with the Rastafarians. If you are interested to join me please send me a text 617.767.2842 just say “I’m interested in Jamaica” so I’ll know what its about and can share more details.
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