Podcasts about Amazonian

W premierowym odcinku drugiego sezonu podcastu „Raport o stanie mody” rozmawiam z Emmą Håkansson, australijską aktywistką, założycielką organizacji Collective Fashion Justice, autorką „Total Ethics Fashion” i reżyserką filmu „Shiringa” o bioskórze produkowanej z żywicy amazońskiego drzewa. W tle: wielki powrót futra i estetyki „mob wife”, historia luksusu opartego na cierpieniu –od torebek Hermèsa robionych ze skóry wieloryba, po amazońskie kolibry zanurzane w złocie i noszone jako kolczyki. I choć wiele się zmieniło – Condé Nast właśnie zakaz publikacji zdjęć prawdziwych futer w „Vogue'u” – branża mody wciąż w dużej mierze opiera się na materiałach pochodzenia zwierzęcego.Obejrzyj film dokumentalny Emmy Shiringa: https://www.collectivefashionjustice.org/shiringa-filmZobacz panel „Leather 2.0” z Business Fashion Environment Summit 2025: https://www.youtube.com/live/Jn7Wuh14cBk?si=5QJMbv45TNWTWmhu&t=11101Odcinek oryginalnie nagrany jest po angielsku. Na YouTubie dostępny jest podcast z napisami.ENG: No Fur, No Feathers, No Compromise: Emma HåkanssonEmma Håkansson is the Australian-born activist behind Collective Fashion Justice, the author of Total Ethics Fashion, and an award-winning filmmaker. During her recent visit to Warsaw for Vogue Polska's Business Fashion Environment Summit, we sat down to talk justice, ethics and…the mob wife aesthetic. From helping Copenhagen, Berlin, and Amsterdam fashion weeks go wildlife-free to spotlighting next-gen materials like Shiringa bioleather made from Amazonian tree sap, Emma is building a future where fashion no longer needs to take life to express itself. For her, ethics don't limit aesthetics. Just look at Stella McCartney's Fevvers (a plant-based feather alternative) or Bottega Veneta's recycled fiberglass that mimics the movement of fur. Emma walks us through the disturbing history of animal use in fashion – from Hermès bags once made of whale skin to Amazonian hummingbirds dipped in gold and worn as earrings - and reveals how luxury has long been constructed on quiet, normalized violence. We've made progress - Condé Nast recently banned publishing new fur imagery across all its titles, including Vogue - but the industry still leans heavily on animal-derived materials. So what might fashion become if it stopped working against nature and started creating with it?Watch Emma's short documentary Shiringa: https://www.collectivefashionjustice.org/shiringa-filmWatch the “Leather 2.0” panel from BFES '25: https://www.youtube.com/live/Jn7Wuh14cBk?si=5QJMbv45TNWTWmhu&t=11101Podcastu „Raport o stanie mody” możesz posłuchać na platformach Spotify, Apple Podcasts oraz YouTube.

A sort of sequel to my last Amazonian video because holy cow, turns out you guys REALLY liked that one ;oSo enjoy being chased through the woods by your Amazonian wife, a woman twice your size that you have no hope of outrunning... (she's gonna getcha)- - -ANNOUNCEMENT! I have a new tier on Patreon for all photosets going forward. I'll no longer be doing photosets, which means more creative freedom and, in the long run, more audios in general! Plus, the new tier is priced lower- if you were unsure about joining, now's the time!Full spicy version of this audio will be uploaded to my Patreon tonight. Join now for access to this and all past audios:https://www.patreon.com/charleymooasmr- - -Artist credit: Unknown! Please let me know if you know the artist!Main ASMR YouTube Channel @charleymooasmr All other links: ⁠https://linktr.ee/charleymoo⁠(please copy/paste linktree if direct is not working! The link DOES work!)Business email (serious inquiries only please!): charleymoobiz@hotmail.com

Cabin Cousins: Part 5 The Gales of November. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections. "Hmm" Melissa said, her face still buried in the pillow. She shifted and turned her head, and I moved to her side with one arm and a leg still draped over so we could look into each other's eyes. "Wow. That was..." She sighed. "...Wonderful." I smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." She squinted at me. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming, and you're just a figment of my imagination?" She said playfully, though I could tell there was something serious behind the question. "I'm real, and I'm right here, in your bed, and I love you." She searched my eyes for a moment, rolled onto her side, and pulled me in close, kissing me deeply. When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, she whispered. "It's our bed, and I love you too." We held each other in silence for a long while. I knew that she had something else to say, but I didn't push her. Eventually, she broke the silence. "Do you want pancakes? I want pancakes." Not exactly the soul-baring statement I was expecting, but now that she had said it, by damn I wanted pancakes. "I'll help." I had made pancakes exactly once before, and it wasn't a complete disaster, so I felt that my inclusion in the process wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. She got a distant look in her eye, then rolled onto her back, and covered her face with her hands with a groan. "I don't have any pancake mix." She peeked at me through her fingers and we both started laughing. I'm not sure why but we both found it hilarious but we roared with laughter. I playfully pushed her towards the side of the bed. "Well, get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast." Still laughing, she got up and opened a dresser drawer. Stepping into a pair of light blue panties, she asked. "Are you getting dressed too, or are you going to go like that?" "I'm thinking about it." I quipped, eyes following her every movement. I loved watching her move. She had a litheness and grace to her. Cat-like? No, that's not quite right. Amazonian? Maybe, but that implies a stature and bulk that Melissa didn't have. She was fit, not body builder muscular, and she wasn't particularly tall, just shy of my own five foot ten. She was perfect, and my eyes couldn't get enough of her. Let's leave it at that. "You'll give the old ladies at Perkins quite a shock." She shot back, still laughing. With an exaggerated sigh, I rolled off the bed. "For the sake of the old ladies, fine, I'll get dressed." Chapter Sixteen. The plate clinked as Melissa set down her fork. "Ugh. I ate too much, but that really hit the spot." She had attacked her "tremendous twelve" meal with murderous intent. All that remained was a scrap of crust from a piece of toast, and some maple syrup residue on an otherwise clean plate. She had even swiped a strip of bacon off of my plate, an act that left fork marks on my brother's hands on several occasions. I looked at my plate, with its pile of hash browns and a third of a stack of pancakes remaining, and set down my fork. "I guess I didn't work up as much of an appetite as you, cause I'm stuffed too." Melissa looked at me with her special smile and mischievous eyes. "Well, you'll have to try harder next time." "I need to work out more." "I can help with that." She replied, and we both giggled, knowing the truth of it. "Let's start with a walk." We left the Perkins restaurant, and with Melissa navigating, we drove north out of Duluth on Hwy 61. We pulled off and parked where a little river crossed under the road and spilled through a steep set of rocky rapids to Lake Superior below. We hiked down a little trail, and she led me out onto one of the big rocks. The scenery was spectacular, and the water rushing past the rocks had a hypnotic quality. It hadn't snowed last night, but the wind was blowing hard off the lake, and the constant mist from the rapids gave the crisp early November air some real bite. We sat for a while without speaking. Just two people holding hands, taking in the scenery and the roar of the water. There was a Gordon Lightfoot song that had something about the gales of November, how did it go? "When I left home," Melissa began, just loud enough to hear. I turned and watched her, careful to hear what she was saying over the noise of the rapids. I had been hoping for, and dreading this moment, when she decided to get the details of her past out in the open. I resolved to not interrupt and to let her tell it at her own pace. "This was the first place I went." She continued. "I didn't know where to go. I didn't have anywhere to go." She sniffed. We were alone but had someone been watching, her running nose and the tears on her cheek might have been assumed to have been caused by the cold, but I knew differently. I could see the deep down hurt that was welling up, and my heart ached. I squeezed her hand, and let her talk. "Every night for two weeks, I'd leave school, then go up the hill to the mall and sit in the food court to do my homework. When the mall closed, I came here, and parked for the night right over there." She pointed up to the little parking lot where my truck was. "I'd wake up, scrape the snow and frost off the windows, and go to school. I didn't tell anyone because then I'd have to explain why I was sleeping in a car in February. I had friends, but not close friends, you know? Like, not the kind of friends that I could talk to about..." She trailed off and wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve. "I had been lucky, it hadn't been as cold as it should have been, but then one night it got very cold. When I left the mall, I knew if I spent the night here again, I could be in serious danger. So I went to the laundromat. There was never anyone in there in the middle of the night, so I sat at one of the tables and fell asleep. The owner woke me up a couple of hours later, yelling at me that I couldn't sleep there, so I got in my car and came back here." She had been looking at the water as she spoke, but now turned and looked at me. I saw the fear and shame these memories invoked. I wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but I knew that I should let her say what she needed to say, so I let her continue. "When I went to sleep on the back seat, I didn't think I was going to ever wake up, and I was okay with that. I didn't care that I was going to die. Nobody cared, nobody would miss me. The world would be better off without one more stupid girl. Why bother going on?" She looked away from me, east towards the vast lake, and her face twisted up in anger. "You know, the worst thing, the worst part of all of it, is they made me feel like it was all my fault. They had me so twisted up, that I believed that I was the cause of everything that happened." She turned back to me, the anger fading, leaving just a profound sadness. I wiped the tears from her cheek, and she leaned her shoulder against me. "Did your parents tell you what happened?" My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard before replying. "They were vague." She gave a little smile that was like a sunbeam on a stormy day. "I asked your mom and dad not to tell anyone. You're so lucky to have them." She looked back to the lake and spoke quietly enough that if her face had not been right next to mine, I wouldn't have been able to hear her. "When I was fifteen, when I started looking more like a woman, and less like a little girl, my dad started abusing me. Mom, she was drunk more than she was sober. She knew, she had to know, and she didn't do anything." As the River roared in its ceaseless path to Lake Superior, and the cold wind whistled and rattled through the leafless trees, Melissa spoke of abuse and divorce, lost jobs and social status, the failing of the system to help a girl who was too scared to ask for help and the blame that was assigned for all of it. "So that night, I remember when the state trooper knocked on my window." She gave a brief mirthless huff. "I thought he was an angel, with the way his flashlight lit up the frost on the inside of the window. I thought I was dead, that it was all over. I felt relieved." She shook her head. "The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed, wrapped in electric blankets, and seeing the sunrise through the window. That trooper was there. He had stayed with me, way past the end of his shift, just to make sure I was alright. Turns out, when they went to my parent's house to see what was going on, my dad was out of town, and my mom ended up getting arrested for assaulting an officer and having a bunch of heroin. That's why she went back to him. Not for me, but for the money to buy her drugs. The trooper persuaded me to reach out to my friends. He said that people can be capable of unexpected acts of kindness, and I decided to believe him. So I called Ashley. We had always gotten along pretty well, and her parents were always super nice to me. They let me stay with them, which was really awkward at first. I just couldn't believe that a family could be so, so perfect. It was like stepping into an old sitcom. Maybe there was a little trouble now and then, but everyone loved each other, and it all worked out in the end. It was surreal, but eventually, I started believing that it was how families should be. That it was right and good, and normal." She looked me in the eyes then, and I saw her love burning through the hurt. "I didn't think that I would ever have that. I thought that there was no way I could ever open up and let someone love me, to be me, to be normal. Who could want me? Then your parents invited me back to the cabin, and I grasped onto a foolish hope that maybe you could. Ever since it's just been, It just doesn't seem real. Charles, I know you love me, but I'm still so afraid." I silenced her with a quick kiss on the lips. I held her cold, rosy cheeks in my hands and looked her in the eyes. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" Fresh tears streamed down her face, not tears of remembered pain, but tears of joyful love. She threw her arms around me and we held each other tight. Overhead, a hawk called, adding its little part to the scene of wind, water, and young lovers. Chapter Seventeen. Getting in my truck and leaving Duluth that evening was the hardest thing I had ever done. The only thing that gave me the strength to leave was the knowledge that it was only temporary. Soon, very soon, I would never have to leave her again. When I got home, Mom was at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. She greeted me with a smile. I had to be very careful with how I was going to handle this conversation. I didn't want to lie to my mom, but I also didn't want to tell her the whole truth. "How was your weekend? I didn't get a call from the cops, so it couldn't have been too exciting." "I was the cop! We went to a Halloween party dressed as the Village People." "Fun!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a beaming smile. "Yeah, and something else happened. Do you know how I can get my employee discount at any store? Well, we stopped at one of the stores in Duluth, and I ended up talking with the yard manager. They've been having trouble finding someone competent to drive a forklift, and if I transferred up there, they'd give me a raise and make me an assistant manager. He said I could start working up there in two weeks." All of these individual facts were technically true, but it still felt like lying. "Good for you! It's great to have in-demand skills. That's a long way to drive though." "Yeah, it would be like, five hours of driving every day." "Did you look into getting an apartment up there?" Mom folded up the newspaper and gave me her undivided attention. "After the school year starts, there's literally nothing cheap available." "Where would you stay then?" She asked, looking concerned. "Well, on the way home, I was thinking about who I know that lives up there. Rob lives in a dorm, so I couldn't get away with staying there long-term. But then I remembered that Melissa lives in Duluth, I could maybe call her and see if she wants a roommate." Okay, this last bit was a lie. I didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done. "Our Melissa? Have you called her yet?" "Not yet. I'm pretty sure I have her number in my phone." "You should figure this out sooner rather than later." She looked at the clock. "It's not too late, give her a call now." I made a show of finding Melissa's number as if I hadn't memorized it weeks ago. Melissa and I had rehearsed this moment. I had the volume on my phone turned way up, so my mom was sure to hear Melissa's side of the conversation too. "Hello?" Melissa's angelic voice asked after three rings. "Hi Melissa, it's Charles." "Charles! It's good to hear from you! What's up?" "Well, I'm going to be transferring up there for work, and I was wondering if you would mind having me as a roommate until I found a place of my own." Another necessary lie. "Yeah, I guess that would be okay. You're not going to find anywhere else to stay until the end of the school year. Even then, I was lucky to get this place, this spring." "So, you're okay with me staying with you?" "Yeah, it'll be fun. Like staying at the cabin, but I don't think my landlord would approve of campfires." "I'll pay half the rent, and utilities, and everything." "Naturally," Melissa said. "I was going to ask one of my friends if they wanted to move in. Only paying half the rent will make saving for school a lot easier." "Cool. So, I guess I'll give you a call tomorrow, and we can figure out the details?" "Yeah, okay." "I'm talking with my mom right now, so I should probably let you go." "Hi Mom!" Melissa yelled. "Hi, Melissa," Mom replied, loud enough to be sure that the phone picked it up. "Talk to you tomorrow, bye!" Melissa said, much quieter this time. "Bye." I had to be very careful not to reflexively say I love you. I put my phone away and noticed that my mom was studying me with a funny little smile on her face. Then in the most casual tone, she asked. "So, does she love you as much as you love her?" My heart nearly stopped. I couldn't respond. "That was a lovely charade. Unnecessary, but lovely." I couldn't speak. My brain frantically searched for words but found only shocked silence. "Oh, honey." She began, in a soothing motherly voice. "You're my baby. Did you think I wouldn't know? It was plain to see at the cabin that you two are in love. You spent the weekend with her?" I forced myself to reply. "Yes," I said, fearing that it was all over. I felt like crying. "Good," Mom said simply. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom knew about me and Melissa, and she was... Happy for me? "So, you're not mad about us?" "Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let go." My tears came then, flowing hard as I released all my pent-up fears and anxiety. Mom held me as I cried on her shoulder. She gently rubbed my back like she used to do when I was a kid. When my crying subsided, she held my shoulders at arm's length. "Now, tell me about her." I did. In the conversation that followed, I was more honest and open about my feelings than I could remember being to anyone other than Melissa. I explained how we knew what each other was thinking or feeling, just by looking into each other's eyes. I told her how I wanted to improve myself, to be a better person for Melissa. And, looking back on it with a touch of horror, I did my best to explain the connection I felt with Melissa when we made love. Throughout it all, my mother was nothing but caring and understanding. After all the fear of this moment, it was surreal. It felt so good, so liberating to tell her how I felt about Melissa. When I was done, I asked Mom. "Does Dad know?" "Oh, I doubt he picked up on it." "Are you going to tell him?" Of all the people in the family, I was sure that Dad would be the least likely to accept. He had always been very traditional. Kind and gentle, but with a very strict moral compass. "Of course. He's my husband. The way you feel about Melissa, I feel about him." She hugged me again. "Don't be ashamed. Love her with all your heart, and everything else will work itself out." She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her too, and said goodnight. I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and called Melissa. "What's up?" She answered. "I didn't think I'd hear from you until tomorrow." Deciding to just be direct about it, I said. "My mother has officially given us her blessing." The line was silent as Melissa processed this. When she spoke, I could tell that she was crying. "How did she find out?" She asked. I recounted the whole conversation. "See? I told you your mom was the best." "She really is." "So, what now?" She asked, with a bit of anxiety. "She said that she had to tell everyone because it's better to have it out in the open than have to keep lying to the family. I agreed." After a short pause, Melissa said. "Me too." As it turns out, my family's reaction was both better than I had feared and worse than I had hoped. My parents had called a family meeting and all of my immediate family, and their spouses, showed up. There were those like my mom, and my brother Mark, who were supportive and genuinely happy for me. On the other end of things, there were people like my second older brother, Stephen, and his wife, who were disgusted and called me a pervert. Most were somewhere in the middle, either not understanding and being polite about it, or just ambivalent to the whole issue. Then there was my dad. He just sat there the whole time, with a frown on his face, and never spoke a word. I couldn't tell if he was ashamed, or angry, or what, and it tore me up inside. He had never in his life been shy about voicing his opinion. After my mom, he was who I needed acceptance from the most. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything, but he never did. His silence cut deeper than any insult or accusation ever could. At the beginning, and with prompting from my mom, I had stood before everyone, confessing Melissa's and my love for each other, and that I was moving out to live with her in Duluth. After the initial shock and spectrum of reactions, I sat down and answered questions. Now, not being able to bear my father's silence any longer, I stood again, interrupting several side conversations. I addressed the whole group, but my words were meant for my father more than anyone. "Melissa and I truly love each other. Nothing you do or say can change it. Accept it, accept us, or don't. I don't care." Dad didn't react, didn't even look me in the eyes. I rushed to my room and locked the door. I curled up on my bed and cried, harder than I could remember ever crying before. The stress of the family meeting and my dad's non-reaction had utterly destroyed me. I held a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable sobs, and to hide my face from the world. "What if they're right about you?" A part of my mind asked. "What if you're just a sicko. That's what they all think." "No! I really do love her!" Another part of my mind answered. "What kind of weirdo falls in love with his cousin? What kind of deviant fucks someone in his own family?" "No! Our love is pure and perfect!" "Yeah, perfect. The perfect fantasy of a clinically twisted pervert! You're just taking advantage of a poor broken girl." "No..." I moaned aloud, holding my head in my hands. Sometime after, someone knocked lightly on my bedroom door. I ignored it, lost as I was in terrible contradictory thoughts. The knock came again, and I heard my mom's voice. "Charles, honey. Can I come in?" I didn't respond, knowing that right then I couldn't bear to face anyone, even my mother. "Oh, my baby." She said through the door. "All I want is for you to be happy. Follow your heart, everything will work out. I love you." Her words quieted the thoughts whirling through my mind, and though my sobs faded, the tears continued to flow. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. I closed my eyes and imagined Melissa lying next to me. I thought about how if she were here, she would comfort me, and wipe the tears from my face. I could see her so clearly in my mind, see how her icy blue eyes would pour her inexhaustible love into me. Soon, my tears stopped flowing, and I regained a sense of peace. I felt awful for doubting myself, for doubting Melissa, if even for a moment. Our love is right. It is pure and perfect. She made me complete, as I made her complete. I drifted off to sleep, with a smile on my face, thinking about Melissa, and dreaming about the future. Chapter Eighteen. Charles copes with changes, but the biggest is yet to happen. The armrests of the padded chair where I was seated were a little too high to be comfortable, so I kept my hands folded in my lap. I gazed at the paintings of calm rural scenes hung on the walls of the spacious office. I wondered absently if they were real places or just the artist's impression of idyllic country life. I glanced at the woman in the matching chair positioned across from me. She was patiently waiting for me to continue my story, with an encouraging expression on her face. "I moved my things into Melissa's apartment a few days later and spent the night with her a couple of times when I had the day off. After the two weeks were up, I started work at the Duluth store and lived with her from then on. I think the only word to describe the years that followed is heavenly. I wouldn't have changed a single thing." "Tell me more about how your family reacted," said the woman, Dr. Clarke. "Did your father and brother ever come around?" "Dad? Yeah, he just needed a little time to process it. After that, he was as good with it as Mom was. The thing with him was, years before, before anyone knew what had been going on with Melissa's dad, he'd known that something was wrong. I'm not sure how, but he knew. After Melissa left home, he would call and check in on her. He paid to have her car fixed and even paid the deposit on her apartment. He always went out of his way to make her feel like she had people that cared. I think he loved her as if she were his own daughter, so the whole thing with the two of us was kind of a shock. When Melissa and I went to my parent's place for Thanksgiving, later that month; and he saw firsthand how happy she was, it wasn't an issue." "And your brother, Stephen?" Dr. Clarke prompted. "That same Thanksgiving, I ended up knocking him down with a punch to the face. He said that Melissa's family were all degenerates and that Melissa was just bringing that degeneracy to our family now. That was the last time I ever saw him." I forced my clenched fists to relax and laid my palms flat on my thighs. "Have you ever thought about reaching out to him? People can change a lot in twenty-four years." "No," I said firmly. "It was his choice to ostracize himself from our family, and I want nothing to do with someone capable of being so deliberately malicious. He knew that she was just beginning to heal the trauma that had been done to her; and had said what he did, specifically to hurt her. Someone capable of doing that will always be capable of doing it." "You might be surprised by how much people can change," She said, as she scribbled a few lines in her notepad. "Maybe," I said, brows furrowing. Those words had made their way into Melissa's nightmares. My fists clenched again, as I remembered all the times I was awoken in the middle of the night by her sobs. I remembered how helpless I felt, being able to do nothing but console her; and hold her until she fell back asleep. My knuckles were white, and my fists trembled slightly. I saw Dr. Clarke glance down at my hands, but she did not indicate what she was thinking. Therapists must make superb poker players. "Some things just can't be forgiven," I said quietly, forcing my hands to relax. "Again, you might be surprised. We can talk more about that next week." She set aside her notepad and glanced up at the clock on the wall behind me. "Now close your eyes, and concentrate on your breathing. Take a slow deep breath, imagining all your negative emotions as a tangible thing. Now breathe out slowly as all those emotions evaporate and exit your body like smoke. Again, deep inhale, and out. Good. Feel your mind become still as your breath carries away the pain. Once more, in, and out. Good." For some reason, this technique worked for me. If left alone, my thoughts naturally gravitated to the bad memories, and each one brought two more with it until I became overwhelmed. I would become mentally gridlocked to the point of not being able to function in everyday life. "When I say the word joy, what is the first thing that pops into your mind?" My eyes were still closed, and I smiled. "Melissa's face when she first saw me that October weekend reunion, at the cabin." "Good. Keep up your breathing exercise. All the pain is gone, only the joy remains. Describe the scene for me. What else do you see? What do you smell and hear?" A single tear rolled down my cheek. I'm not sure why I started to cry, whether it was joy in the image of her, so happy and full of promise for the future, or sorrow because that future is gone. I would never again see her smile. "Sunbeams cut down through the trees, lighting up smoke drifting from the fire pit. She passes through one, and her hair glows like golden fire. I smell the white pines, strong in the soft breeze, and the smell of burning oak. A loon call echoes up from the lake, and all around the cabin yard, there is the quiet burble of conversations and laughter." I wiped the tears from my face with a flannel shirt sleeve and looked away from Dr. Clarke. I still felt embarrassed to cry in front of another person. "That sounds lovely. Hold on to that moment, use it as a refuge." She glanced at the clock again and stood. I stood as well, taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table to dry my eyes. She walked me to her office door. "Thank you for sharing today, Charles. I think you are doing very well." As she opened the door, she asked. "Have you gone to the aromatherapy shop we talked about last week?" "No," I said dejectedly. "I was going to, but..." I had meant to go, but sometimes certain things were just impossible to make myself do. Going into an unfamiliar place and talking to a stranger was one of those things. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. This hadn't been a particularly good week, and the thought of talking to someone new, someone who would ask questions about why I was there, questions that would bring up painful memories, was simply unthinkable. Yesterday, I had made it all the way to my car and had the key in the ignition, but then I just sat there, unable to make myself go through with it. "That's ok." Said Dr. Clarke. I knew she knew why I didn't go, and I had gotten to the point where I felt safe sharing my feelings with her, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of shame. "Addy is very good at what she does, and she has helped many of my clients. She's a friend." I nodded and started moving through the doorway. Ending conversations always seemed so awkward. I never knew what to say. "Thank you for being so open today, Charles. See you again next week." She was looking at my eyes, and I met her gaze briefly before looking away. In recent years, I had become very uncomfortable making anything more than the briefest of eye contact with people, especially women, so I was usually at a huge disadvantage when it came to reading people's motivations and emotions. In that brief glimpse though, I caught the impression of empathy and a real desire to help. It felt really good to know that someone cared. I gave her a genuine smile and left. I left her office with the intention of going directly to the shop she had recommended, but by the time I was in my car, I just... couldn't. This is what my life had become. I could go from being on the verge of drowning in a sea of sorrow to feeling positive and optimistic in an instant, then back just as fast. But mostly, it was what I called 'the gray'. I am self-aware enough to understand how it began. Instead of dealing with certain traumatic events, my brain decided that it was easier and far less painful, just to push them aside. The problem is, that those things don't just go away. No matter how hard you push them down, they keep bubbling back up, and you end up pushing everything away in the effort. Then one day you realize that living in the gray was the only way to survive because every little bit of emotion, good or bad, could open the gates and let all the pain come rushing in. I had pushed everything and everyone aside for the sake of self-preservation, and it was killing me. I knew I needed help. I knew that the person I was, wasn't really me. The problem was, I had been in the gray so long, that I couldn't remember how it was before, not really. I knew that I had been happy once, that I had hopes and dreams. But that was all gone, lost in the gray. Chapter Nineteen. The next day turned out to be one of the good ones. I was able to get myself out of bed, dressed, and in the car. I decided that I would finally make it to this aromatherapy shop Dr. Clarke wanted me to go to. I turned the key in the ignition, and my geriatric Honda Civic purred to life. I quickly released the emergency brake and shifted into reverse. I backed out of my parking spot with a sigh. There, I did it. The hard part was over, and now that I had started the task, it would be easier to go through with it. Don't ask me why that makes sense, I wouldn't know how to even start explaining. I enjoyed my drive across town. It was a beautiful day in Duluth. Down near Lake Superior, it was a little breezy and a comfortable 65 degrees, perfect for driving with the windows down. Climbing the hill on 194, the farther I got away from the lake, the hotter it got. By the time I got to the shop, it was nearly 80 degrees, and I had begun to sweat. A typical July day in the Twin Ports. I've always said, that this was one of the things I loved most about living in Duluth. It could be hot as hell up on top of the hill, but if the wind was right, it was always cool near the lake. I shut the car off and set the E brake. I wiped a bit of sweat off my brow, and it occurred to me that I was wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and that I hadn't showered. Hit with a sudden wave of shame and embarrassment about meeting someone new in this state, I almost just left to go back home. With an effort of willpower, I opened the car door and stepped out. Task begun. I walked in and was greeted by a smiling older lady that I assumed was Addy. "Hi, um, Dr. Clarke sent me." Addy's smile widened. "Oh, come in, come in. I'm Addy." "I'm Charles," I replied, meeting her eyes for the briefest moment. "Pleased to meet you, Charles. How is Rose doing these days?" Dr. Clarke's first name was Virginia. She had grown up in Virginia, Minnesota, and I think she was still annoyed by her unimaginative parents, because she liked to use her middle name, Rose. I almost exclusively used 'Dr. Clarke' when speaking with or about her. "I've been seeing her for a couple of months now. She's nice." I never seemed to know how to answer questions like that. I grimaced inwardly at my awkwardness. "She's a sweetheart, and good at her job. I saw her for years." She led me over to a glass counter filled with hundreds of small labeled bottles. "So, are we looking for something to help you relax?" "Something to help me remember." I paused briefly, trying to find the right words. "Well, remembering isn't the issue." I felt a rush of awkwardness and a little bit of embarrassment in talking about something so personal with a stranger. My cheeks flushed, and I looked at the bottles in the case to ensure I didn't accidentally make eye contact. "I want to be able to focus on just the one thing." "Tell me about it." I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "There's smoke from the campfire, mostly oak. Maybe a tiny bit of something acrid, like someone had thrown a plastic plate in the fire." As I spoke, I could hear Addy selecting a few bottles from a rack within the display case. "Pine trees. Even with the smoke, the pines smell strong." "Spruce?" Addy asked politely. "No, White Pine. The needles and sap are everywhere." "Anything else?" I took another deep breath but didn't reply. "Sometimes there's things around us that have a scent, but we're either too used to it, or its faint enough that we don't remember without smelling it. What else was there? Is this a campground?" Addy asked in what I recognized as being in a deliberately unobtrusive way. "It's a cabin," I replied, searching the mental image for things that may have a scent. "It's an old log cabin, surrounded by white pines. There's a log pile. My brother had been using the chainsaw earlier. My truck is parked in the driveway, it smells like gas because the tank leaks a little bit. Someone had mowed the little patch of grass in front of the cabin." "Is there anyone there, wearing perfume or aftershave?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. Addy gave me time to answer. "She..." I struggled to find words to describe Melissa's scent. How do you describe such a thing to someone? How do you describe a sunset to a blind person, or describe to a deaf person the emotions evoked by the Moonlight Sonata? She smelled like love, and I still smell her on the clothes I keep in her dresser. "You know how strawberry plants don't smell like strawberry? Not like the fake strawberry candy scent?" Of course, she did, but I went on. "A strawberry blossom. Delicate, faint, with just the promise of sweetness." "She was someone special," Addy said, in more of a statement than a question. "I ended up marrying her. She;" A tear rolled down my cheek. "Nine years ago;" I just couldn't force the words out of my mouth. I could tell Addy the exact date and time. I could tell her that we had just gone to see The Martian in the movie theater and that the night was clear and cool after the late August thunderstorm earlier that afternoon. I could tell her what song was playing on the radio. I could tell her the look on Melissa's face when the headlights crossed through the median in front of us. What I couldn't say, was physically unable to, was that nine years ago, Melissa died. "It's okay, dear," Addy said. She had a grandmotherly voice, full of kindness and understanding. For the briefest of moments, the power of that gentle voice made me believe that yes, everything would be okay. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll have something for you to try." I nodded and wandered away from the counter, absently browsing the candles and incense as I tried to compose myself. As I looked through the shop it occurred to me how posh the place seemed. High-dollar products are meant to be sold to people who have the luxury of ignoring price tags. I did not have that luxury. I felt anxiety and a general shame of the complete fuck up I had become. If this costs more than about forty dollars, I wouldn't be able to afford groceries this week. "Charles, it's ready," Addy called from the other side of the store. I walked over and closed my eyes as she extended a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid. I breathed deeply and conjured the scene in my mind. The scent of Addy's mixture hit me like a lightning bolt. It was like reading a book in the dark, and then someone turned on the lights. Everything came into sharp focus like I was there. The smoke, the pines, and, My breath caught in my throat. Buried deep within the mix there was something light, something so tenuous you hardly knew it was there. It was Melissa. In my mind, she threw herself into my arms, and I could smell her. I could smell her. "How?" I asked, looking her in the eyes for the first time since my initial glance. Addy smiled warmly, and I could see genuine care in her face, not just the politeness of a shop owner to a customer. "If she had been wearing perfume, it would have been harder. We remember scents much better than we think we do. Sometimes all we need is a little hint, and it's brought right to the front." Dr. Clarke was right, Addy was good. "Your idea about the strawberry flowers was good. They're very faint and don't smell like much at all, definitely not strawberries. But when you know that you have strawberry flowers, and you smell them, your brain brings up the memory of strawberries. Scents are all connected in our minds, and are rooted deep down at the very foundation of memory." Addy put a rubber stopper in the bottle and carefully placed the bottle in a velvet pouch with her shop's logo on it. She held it out for me to take. A tear dripped off my jaw, and I quickly wiped my face on a sleeve. "How much?" I started to ask, again acutely aware of my wrinkled clothes, my general lack of personal hygiene, and the depressingly small balance of my bank account. Addy cut me off with a raised hand. "Rose is a friend of mine, and any friend of hers is also a friend of mine." She pushed the velvet bag into my hands. "No, I can't;" Addy stopped me again. "Most of my clients just want something that smells nice in their bathroom, or to cover the smell of weed. I'm perfectly happy to take their money." She placed her hands on mine, still clutching the velvet bag. "It's very rare that I get to help someone. Take it as a gift, with my thanks." I was speechless, and fresh tears rolled down my face. I couldn't remember the last time someone was so altruistically kind to me. "Thank you." Was all I could say. To be continued in part 6. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts, for Literotica.

Cabin Cousins: Part 5 The Gales of November. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connections. "Hmm" Melissa said, her face still buried in the pillow. She shifted and turned her head, and I moved to her side with one arm and a leg still draped over so we could look into each other's eyes. "Wow. That was..." She sighed. "...Wonderful." I smiled and kissed her cheek. "I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did." She squinted at me. "Are you sure I'm not dreaming, and you're just a figment of my imagination?" She said playfully, though I could tell there was something serious behind the question. "I'm real, and I'm right here, in your bed, and I love you." She searched my eyes for a moment, rolled onto her side, and pulled me in close, kissing me deeply. When we stopped kissing to catch our breath, she whispered. "It's our bed, and I love you too." We held each other in silence for a long while. I knew that she had something else to say, but I didn't push her. Eventually, she broke the silence. "Do you want pancakes? I want pancakes." Not exactly the soul-baring statement I was expecting, but now that she had said it, by damn I wanted pancakes. "I'll help." I had made pancakes exactly once before, and it wasn't a complete disaster, so I felt that my inclusion in the process wouldn't be too much of a hindrance. She got a distant look in her eye, then rolled onto her back, and covered her face with her hands with a groan. "I don't have any pancake mix." She peeked at me through her fingers and we both started laughing. I'm not sure why but we both found it hilarious but we roared with laughter. I playfully pushed her towards the side of the bed. "Well, get dressed. I'll take you out for breakfast." Still laughing, she got up and opened a dresser drawer. Stepping into a pair of light blue panties, she asked. "Are you getting dressed too, or are you going to go like that?" "I'm thinking about it." I quipped, eyes following her every movement. I loved watching her move. She had a litheness and grace to her. Cat-like? No, that's not quite right. Amazonian? Maybe, but that implies a stature and bulk that Melissa didn't have. She was fit, not body builder muscular, and she wasn't particularly tall, just shy of my own five foot ten. She was perfect, and my eyes couldn't get enough of her. Let's leave it at that. "You'll give the old ladies at Perkins quite a shock." She shot back, still laughing. With an exaggerated sigh, I rolled off the bed. "For the sake of the old ladies, fine, I'll get dressed." Chapter Sixteen. The plate clinked as Melissa set down her fork. "Ugh. I ate too much, but that really hit the spot." She had attacked her "tremendous twelve" meal with murderous intent. All that remained was a scrap of crust from a piece of toast, and some maple syrup residue on an otherwise clean plate. She had even swiped a strip of bacon off of my plate, an act that left fork marks on my brother's hands on several occasions. I looked at my plate, with its pile of hash browns and a third of a stack of pancakes remaining, and set down my fork. "I guess I didn't work up as much of an appetite as you, cause I'm stuffed too." Melissa looked at me with her special smile and mischievous eyes. "Well, you'll have to try harder next time." "I need to work out more." "I can help with that." She replied, and we both giggled, knowing the truth of it. "Let's start with a walk." We left the Perkins restaurant, and with Melissa navigating, we drove north out of Duluth on Hwy 61. We pulled off and parked where a little river crossed under the road and spilled through a steep set of rocky rapids to Lake Superior below. We hiked down a little trail, and she led me out onto one of the big rocks. The scenery was spectacular, and the water rushing past the rocks had a hypnotic quality. It hadn't snowed last night, but the wind was blowing hard off the lake, and the constant mist from the rapids gave the crisp early November air some real bite. We sat for a while without speaking. Just two people holding hands, taking in the scenery and the roar of the water. There was a Gordon Lightfoot song that had something about the gales of November, how did it go? "When I left home," Melissa began, just loud enough to hear. I turned and watched her, careful to hear what she was saying over the noise of the rapids. I had been hoping for, and dreading this moment, when she decided to get the details of her past out in the open. I resolved to not interrupt and to let her tell it at her own pace. "This was the first place I went." She continued. "I didn't know where to go. I didn't have anywhere to go." She sniffed. We were alone but had someone been watching, her running nose and the tears on her cheek might have been assumed to have been caused by the cold, but I knew differently. I could see the deep down hurt that was welling up, and my heart ached. I squeezed her hand, and let her talk. "Every night for two weeks, I'd leave school, then go up the hill to the mall and sit in the food court to do my homework. When the mall closed, I came here, and parked for the night right over there." She pointed up to the little parking lot where my truck was. "I'd wake up, scrape the snow and frost off the windows, and go to school. I didn't tell anyone because then I'd have to explain why I was sleeping in a car in February. I had friends, but not close friends, you know? Like, not the kind of friends that I could talk to about..." She trailed off and wiped her nose on her jacket sleeve. "I had been lucky, it hadn't been as cold as it should have been, but then one night it got very cold. When I left the mall, I knew if I spent the night here again, I could be in serious danger. So I went to the laundromat. There was never anyone in there in the middle of the night, so I sat at one of the tables and fell asleep. The owner woke me up a couple of hours later, yelling at me that I couldn't sleep there, so I got in my car and came back here." She had been looking at the water as she spoke, but now turned and looked at me. I saw the fear and shame these memories invoked. I wanted to say something, anything to comfort her, but I knew that I should let her say what she needed to say, so I let her continue. "When I went to sleep on the back seat, I didn't think I was going to ever wake up, and I was okay with that. I didn't care that I was going to die. Nobody cared, nobody would miss me. The world would be better off without one more stupid girl. Why bother going on?" She looked away from me, east towards the vast lake, and her face twisted up in anger. "You know, the worst thing, the worst part of all of it, is they made me feel like it was all my fault. They had me so twisted up, that I believed that I was the cause of everything that happened." She turned back to me, the anger fading, leaving just a profound sadness. I wiped the tears from her cheek, and she leaned her shoulder against me. "Did your parents tell you what happened?" My throat was dry, and I swallowed hard before replying. "They were vague." She gave a little smile that was like a sunbeam on a stormy day. "I asked your mom and dad not to tell anyone. You're so lucky to have them." She looked back to the lake and spoke quietly enough that if her face had not been right next to mine, I wouldn't have been able to hear her. "When I was fifteen, when I started looking more like a woman, and less like a little girl, my dad started abusing me. Mom, she was drunk more than she was sober. She knew, she had to know, and she didn't do anything." As the River roared in its ceaseless path to Lake Superior, and the cold wind whistled and rattled through the leafless trees, Melissa spoke of abuse and divorce, lost jobs and social status, the failing of the system to help a girl who was too scared to ask for help and the blame that was assigned for all of it. "So that night, I remember when the state trooper knocked on my window." She gave a brief mirthless huff. "I thought he was an angel, with the way his flashlight lit up the frost on the inside of the window. I thought I was dead, that it was all over. I felt relieved." She shook her head. "The next thing I remember was being in a hospital bed, wrapped in electric blankets, and seeing the sunrise through the window. That trooper was there. He had stayed with me, way past the end of his shift, just to make sure I was alright. Turns out, when they went to my parent's house to see what was going on, my dad was out of town, and my mom ended up getting arrested for assaulting an officer and having a bunch of heroin. That's why she went back to him. Not for me, but for the money to buy her drugs. The trooper persuaded me to reach out to my friends. He said that people can be capable of unexpected acts of kindness, and I decided to believe him. So I called Ashley. We had always gotten along pretty well, and her parents were always super nice to me. They let me stay with them, which was really awkward at first. I just couldn't believe that a family could be so, so perfect. It was like stepping into an old sitcom. Maybe there was a little trouble now and then, but everyone loved each other, and it all worked out in the end. It was surreal, but eventually, I started believing that it was how families should be. That it was right and good, and normal." She looked me in the eyes then, and I saw her love burning through the hurt. "I didn't think that I would ever have that. I thought that there was no way I could ever open up and let someone love me, to be me, to be normal. Who could want me? Then your parents invited me back to the cabin, and I grasped onto a foolish hope that maybe you could. Ever since it's just been, It just doesn't seem real. Charles, I know you love me, but I'm still so afraid." I silenced her with a quick kiss on the lips. I held her cold, rosy cheeks in my hands and looked her in the eyes. "None of what happened was your fault. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved. I love you, I will always love you. Nothing in the past, present, or future will stop me from loving you until the end of time, and when we're both gone from this world, I'll find you in the next and keep loving you!" Fresh tears streamed down her face, not tears of remembered pain, but tears of joyful love. She threw her arms around me and we held each other tight. Overhead, a hawk called, adding its little part to the scene of wind, water, and young lovers. Chapter Seventeen. Getting in my truck and leaving Duluth that evening was the hardest thing I had ever done. The only thing that gave me the strength to leave was the knowledge that it was only temporary. Soon, very soon, I would never have to leave her again. When I got home, Mom was at the kitchen table reading a newspaper. She greeted me with a smile. I had to be very careful with how I was going to handle this conversation. I didn't want to lie to my mom, but I also didn't want to tell her the whole truth. "How was your weekend? I didn't get a call from the cops, so it couldn't have been too exciting." "I was the cop! We went to a Halloween party dressed as the Village People." "Fun!" Mom exclaimed, giving me a beaming smile. "Yeah, and something else happened. Do you know how I can get my employee discount at any store? Well, we stopped at one of the stores in Duluth, and I ended up talking with the yard manager. They've been having trouble finding someone competent to drive a forklift, and if I transferred up there, they'd give me a raise and make me an assistant manager. He said I could start working up there in two weeks." All of these individual facts were technically true, but it still felt like lying. "Good for you! It's great to have in-demand skills. That's a long way to drive though." "Yeah, it would be like, five hours of driving every day." "Did you look into getting an apartment up there?" Mom folded up the newspaper and gave me her undivided attention. "After the school year starts, there's literally nothing cheap available." "Where would you stay then?" She asked, looking concerned. "Well, on the way home, I was thinking about who I know that lives up there. Rob lives in a dorm, so I couldn't get away with staying there long-term. But then I remembered that Melissa lives in Duluth, I could maybe call her and see if she wants a roommate." Okay, this last bit was a lie. I didn't feel good about it, but it had to be done. "Our Melissa? Have you called her yet?" "Not yet. I'm pretty sure I have her number in my phone." "You should figure this out sooner rather than later." She looked at the clock. "It's not too late, give her a call now." I made a show of finding Melissa's number as if I hadn't memorized it weeks ago. Melissa and I had rehearsed this moment. I had the volume on my phone turned way up, so my mom was sure to hear Melissa's side of the conversation too. "Hello?" Melissa's angelic voice asked after three rings. "Hi Melissa, it's Charles." "Charles! It's good to hear from you! What's up?" "Well, I'm going to be transferring up there for work, and I was wondering if you would mind having me as a roommate until I found a place of my own." Another necessary lie. "Yeah, I guess that would be okay. You're not going to find anywhere else to stay until the end of the school year. Even then, I was lucky to get this place, this spring." "So, you're okay with me staying with you?" "Yeah, it'll be fun. Like staying at the cabin, but I don't think my landlord would approve of campfires." "I'll pay half the rent, and utilities, and everything." "Naturally," Melissa said. "I was going to ask one of my friends if they wanted to move in. Only paying half the rent will make saving for school a lot easier." "Cool. So, I guess I'll give you a call tomorrow, and we can figure out the details?" "Yeah, okay." "I'm talking with my mom right now, so I should probably let you go." "Hi Mom!" Melissa yelled. "Hi, Melissa," Mom replied, loud enough to be sure that the phone picked it up. "Talk to you tomorrow, bye!" Melissa said, much quieter this time. "Bye." I had to be very careful not to reflexively say I love you. I put my phone away and noticed that my mom was studying me with a funny little smile on her face. Then in the most casual tone, she asked. "So, does she love you as much as you love her?" My heart nearly stopped. I couldn't respond. "That was a lovely charade. Unnecessary, but lovely." I couldn't speak. My brain frantically searched for words but found only shocked silence. "Oh, honey." She began, in a soothing motherly voice. "You're my baby. Did you think I wouldn't know? It was plain to see at the cabin that you two are in love. You spent the weekend with her?" I forced myself to reply. "Yes," I said, fearing that it was all over. I felt like crying. "Good," Mom said simply. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Mom knew about me and Melissa, and she was... Happy for me? "So, you're not mad about us?" "Oh, Charles. Love is so precious. It doesn't matter where you find it, but when you do, you hold on with both hands and never let go." My tears came then, flowing hard as I released all my pent-up fears and anxiety. Mom held me as I cried on her shoulder. She gently rubbed my back like she used to do when I was a kid. When my crying subsided, she held my shoulders at arm's length. "Now, tell me about her." I did. In the conversation that followed, I was more honest and open about my feelings than I could remember being to anyone other than Melissa. I explained how we knew what each other was thinking or feeling, just by looking into each other's eyes. I told her how I wanted to improve myself, to be a better person for Melissa. And, looking back on it with a touch of horror, I did my best to explain the connection I felt with Melissa when we made love. Throughout it all, my mother was nothing but caring and understanding. After all the fear of this moment, it was surreal. It felt so good, so liberating to tell her how I felt about Melissa. When I was done, I asked Mom. "Does Dad know?" "Oh, I doubt he picked up on it." "Are you going to tell him?" Of all the people in the family, I was sure that Dad would be the least likely to accept. He had always been very traditional. Kind and gentle, but with a very strict moral compass. "Of course. He's my husband. The way you feel about Melissa, I feel about him." She hugged me again. "Don't be ashamed. Love her with all your heart, and everything else will work itself out." She kissed me on the cheek and told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her too, and said goodnight. I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and called Melissa. "What's up?" She answered. "I didn't think I'd hear from you until tomorrow." Deciding to just be direct about it, I said. "My mother has officially given us her blessing." The line was silent as Melissa processed this. When she spoke, I could tell that she was crying. "How did she find out?" She asked. I recounted the whole conversation. "See? I told you your mom was the best." "She really is." "So, what now?" She asked, with a bit of anxiety. "She said that she had to tell everyone because it's better to have it out in the open than have to keep lying to the family. I agreed." After a short pause, Melissa said. "Me too." As it turns out, my family's reaction was both better than I had feared and worse than I had hoped. My parents had called a family meeting and all of my immediate family, and their spouses, showed up. There were those like my mom, and my brother Mark, who were supportive and genuinely happy for me. On the other end of things, there were people like my second older brother, Stephen, and his wife, who were disgusted and called me a pervert. Most were somewhere in the middle, either not understanding and being polite about it, or just ambivalent to the whole issue. Then there was my dad. He just sat there the whole time, with a frown on his face, and never spoke a word. I couldn't tell if he was ashamed, or angry, or what, and it tore me up inside. He had never in his life been shy about voicing his opinion. After my mom, he was who I needed acceptance from the most. I desperately wanted him to say something, anything, but he never did. His silence cut deeper than any insult or accusation ever could. At the beginning, and with prompting from my mom, I had stood before everyone, confessing Melissa's and my love for each other, and that I was moving out to live with her in Duluth. After the initial shock and spectrum of reactions, I sat down and answered questions. Now, not being able to bear my father's silence any longer, I stood again, interrupting several side conversations. I addressed the whole group, but my words were meant for my father more than anyone. "Melissa and I truly love each other. Nothing you do or say can change it. Accept it, accept us, or don't. I don't care." Dad didn't react, didn't even look me in the eyes. I rushed to my room and locked the door. I curled up on my bed and cried, harder than I could remember ever crying before. The stress of the family meeting and my dad's non-reaction had utterly destroyed me. I held a pillow over my head to muffle the sounds of my uncontrollable sobs, and to hide my face from the world. "What if they're right about you?" A part of my mind asked. "What if you're just a sicko. That's what they all think." "No! I really do love her!" Another part of my mind answered. "What kind of weirdo falls in love with his cousin? What kind of deviant fucks someone in his own family?" "No! Our love is pure and perfect!" "Yeah, perfect. The perfect fantasy of a clinically twisted pervert! You're just taking advantage of a poor broken girl." "No..." I moaned aloud, holding my head in my hands. Sometime after, someone knocked lightly on my bedroom door. I ignored it, lost as I was in terrible contradictory thoughts. The knock came again, and I heard my mom's voice. "Charles, honey. Can I come in?" I didn't respond, knowing that right then I couldn't bear to face anyone, even my mother. "Oh, my baby." She said through the door. "All I want is for you to be happy. Follow your heart, everything will work out. I love you." Her words quieted the thoughts whirling through my mind, and though my sobs faded, the tears continued to flow. I was exhausted, physically and emotionally. I closed my eyes and imagined Melissa lying next to me. I thought about how if she were here, she would comfort me, and wipe the tears from my face. I could see her so clearly in my mind, see how her icy blue eyes would pour her inexhaustible love into me. Soon, my tears stopped flowing, and I regained a sense of peace. I felt awful for doubting myself, for doubting Melissa, if even for a moment. Our love is right. It is pure and perfect. She made me complete, as I made her complete. I drifted off to sleep, with a smile on my face, thinking about Melissa, and dreaming about the future. Chapter Eighteen. Charles copes with changes, but the biggest is yet to happen. The armrests of the padded chair where I was seated were a little too high to be comfortable, so I kept my hands folded in my lap. I gazed at the paintings of calm rural scenes hung on the walls of the spacious office. I wondered absently if they were real places or just the artist's impression of idyllic country life. I glanced at the woman in the matching chair positioned across from me. She was patiently waiting for me to continue my story, with an encouraging expression on her face. "I moved my things into Melissa's apartment a few days later and spent the night with her a couple of times when I had the day off. After the two weeks were up, I started work at the Duluth store and lived with her from then on. I think the only word to describe the years that followed is heavenly. I wouldn't have changed a single thing." "Tell me more about how your family reacted," said the woman, Dr. Clarke. "Did your father and brother ever come around?" "Dad? Yeah, he just needed a little time to process it. After that, he was as good with it as Mom was. The thing with him was, years before, before anyone knew what had been going on with Melissa's dad, he'd known that something was wrong. I'm not sure how, but he knew. After Melissa left home, he would call and check in on her. He paid to have her car fixed and even paid the deposit on her apartment. He always went out of his way to make her feel like she had people that cared. I think he loved her as if she were his own daughter, so the whole thing with the two of us was kind of a shock. When Melissa and I went to my parent's place for Thanksgiving, later that month; and he saw firsthand how happy she was, it wasn't an issue." "And your brother, Stephen?" Dr. Clarke prompted. "That same Thanksgiving, I ended up knocking him down with a punch to the face. He said that Melissa's family were all degenerates and that Melissa was just bringing that degeneracy to our family now. That was the last time I ever saw him." I forced my clenched fists to relax and laid my palms flat on my thighs. "Have you ever thought about reaching out to him? People can change a lot in twenty-four years." "No," I said firmly. "It was his choice to ostracize himself from our family, and I want nothing to do with someone capable of being so deliberately malicious. He knew that she was just beginning to heal the trauma that had been done to her; and had said what he did, specifically to hurt her. Someone capable of doing that will always be capable of doing it." "You might be surprised by how much people can change," She said, as she scribbled a few lines in her notepad. "Maybe," I said, brows furrowing. Those words had made their way into Melissa's nightmares. My fists clenched again, as I remembered all the times I was awoken in the middle of the night by her sobs. I remembered how helpless I felt, being able to do nothing but console her; and hold her until she fell back asleep. My knuckles were white, and my fists trembled slightly. I saw Dr. Clarke glance down at my hands, but she did not indicate what she was thinking. Therapists must make superb poker players. "Some things just can't be forgiven," I said quietly, forcing my hands to relax. "Again, you might be surprised. We can talk more about that next week." She set aside her notepad and glanced up at the clock on the wall behind me. "Now close your eyes, and concentrate on your breathing. Take a slow deep breath, imagining all your negative emotions as a tangible thing. Now breathe out slowly as all those emotions evaporate and exit your body like smoke. Again, deep inhale, and out. Good. Feel your mind become still as your breath carries away the pain. Once more, in, and out. Good." For some reason, this technique worked for me. If left alone, my thoughts naturally gravitated to the bad memories, and each one brought two more with it until I became overwhelmed. I would become mentally gridlocked to the point of not being able to function in everyday life. "When I say the word joy, what is the first thing that pops into your mind?" My eyes were still closed, and I smiled. "Melissa's face when she first saw me that October weekend reunion, at the cabin." "Good. Keep up your breathing exercise. All the pain is gone, only the joy remains. Describe the scene for me. What else do you see? What do you smell and hear?" A single tear rolled down my cheek. I'm not sure why I started to cry, whether it was joy in the image of her, so happy and full of promise for the future, or sorrow because that future is gone. I would never again see her smile. "Sunbeams cut down through the trees, lighting up smoke drifting from the fire pit. She passes through one, and her hair glows like golden fire. I smell the white pines, strong in the soft breeze, and the smell of burning oak. A loon call echoes up from the lake, and all around the cabin yard, there is the quiet burble of conversations and laughter." I wiped the tears from my face with a flannel shirt sleeve and looked away from Dr. Clarke. I still felt embarrassed to cry in front of another person. "That sounds lovely. Hold on to that moment, use it as a refuge." She glanced at the clock again and stood. I stood as well, taking a tissue from the box on the coffee table to dry my eyes. She walked me to her office door. "Thank you for sharing today, Charles. I think you are doing very well." As she opened the door, she asked. "Have you gone to the aromatherapy shop we talked about last week?" "No," I said dejectedly. "I was going to, but..." I had meant to go, but sometimes certain things were just impossible to make myself do. Going into an unfamiliar place and talking to a stranger was one of those things. Sometimes I could, sometimes I couldn't. This hadn't been a particularly good week, and the thought of talking to someone new, someone who would ask questions about why I was there, questions that would bring up painful memories, was simply unthinkable. Yesterday, I had made it all the way to my car and had the key in the ignition, but then I just sat there, unable to make myself go through with it. "That's ok." Said Dr. Clarke. I knew she knew why I didn't go, and I had gotten to the point where I felt safe sharing my feelings with her, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of shame. "Addy is very good at what she does, and she has helped many of my clients. She's a friend." I nodded and started moving through the doorway. Ending conversations always seemed so awkward. I never knew what to say. "Thank you for being so open today, Charles. See you again next week." She was looking at my eyes, and I met her gaze briefly before looking away. In recent years, I had become very uncomfortable making anything more than the briefest of eye contact with people, especially women, so I was usually at a huge disadvantage when it came to reading people's motivations and emotions. In that brief glimpse though, I caught the impression of empathy and a real desire to help. It felt really good to know that someone cared. I gave her a genuine smile and left. I left her office with the intention of going directly to the shop she had recommended, but by the time I was in my car, I just... couldn't. This is what my life had become. I could go from being on the verge of drowning in a sea of sorrow to feeling positive and optimistic in an instant, then back just as fast. But mostly, it was what I called 'the gray'. I am self-aware enough to understand how it began. Instead of dealing with certain traumatic events, my brain decided that it was easier and far less painful, just to push them aside. The problem is, that those things don't just go away. No matter how hard you push them down, they keep bubbling back up, and you end up pushing everything away in the effort. Then one day you realize that living in the gray was the only way to survive because every little bit of emotion, good or bad, could open the gates and let all the pain come rushing in. I had pushed everything and everyone aside for the sake of self-preservation, and it was killing me. I knew I needed help. I knew that the person I was, wasn't really me. The problem was, I had been in the gray so long, that I couldn't remember how it was before, not really. I knew that I had been happy once, that I had hopes and dreams. But that was all gone, lost in the gray. Chapter Nineteen. The next day turned out to be one of the good ones. I was able to get myself out of bed, dressed, and in the car. I decided that I would finally make it to this aromatherapy shop Dr. Clarke wanted me to go to. I turned the key in the ignition, and my geriatric Honda Civic purred to life. I quickly released the emergency brake and shifted into reverse. I backed out of my parking spot with a sigh. There, I did it. The hard part was over, and now that I had started the task, it would be easier to go through with it. Don't ask me why that makes sense, I wouldn't know how to even start explaining. I enjoyed my drive across town. It was a beautiful day in Duluth. Down near Lake Superior, it was a little breezy and a comfortable 65 degrees, perfect for driving with the windows down. Climbing the hill on 194, the farther I got away from the lake, the hotter it got. By the time I got to the shop, it was nearly 80 degrees, and I had begun to sweat. A typical July day in the Twin Ports. I've always said, that this was one of the things I loved most about living in Duluth. It could be hot as hell up on top of the hill, but if the wind was right, it was always cool near the lake. I shut the car off and set the E brake. I wiped a bit of sweat off my brow, and it occurred to me that I was wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and that I hadn't showered. Hit with a sudden wave of shame and embarrassment about meeting someone new in this state, I almost just left to go back home. With an effort of willpower, I opened the car door and stepped out. Task begun. I walked in and was greeted by a smiling older lady that I assumed was Addy. "Hi, um, Dr. Clarke sent me." Addy's smile widened. "Oh, come in, come in. I'm Addy." "I'm Charles," I replied, meeting her eyes for the briefest moment. "Pleased to meet you, Charles. How is Rose doing these days?" Dr. Clarke's first name was Virginia. She had grown up in Virginia, Minnesota, and I think she was still annoyed by her unimaginative parents, because she liked to use her middle name, Rose. I almost exclusively used 'Dr. Clarke' when speaking with or about her. "I've been seeing her for a couple of months now. She's nice." I never seemed to know how to answer questions like that. I grimaced inwardly at my awkwardness. "She's a sweetheart, and good at her job. I saw her for years." She led me over to a glass counter filled with hundreds of small labeled bottles. "So, are we looking for something to help you relax?" "Something to help me remember." I paused briefly, trying to find the right words. "Well, remembering isn't the issue." I felt a rush of awkwardness and a little bit of embarrassment in talking about something so personal with a stranger. My cheeks flushed, and I looked at the bottles in the case to ensure I didn't accidentally make eye contact. "I want to be able to focus on just the one thing." "Tell me about it." I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. "There's smoke from the campfire, mostly oak. Maybe a tiny bit of something acrid, like someone had thrown a plastic plate in the fire." As I spoke, I could hear Addy selecting a few bottles from a rack within the display case. "Pine trees. Even with the smoke, the pines smell strong." "Spruce?" Addy asked politely. "No, White Pine. The needles and sap are everywhere." "Anything else?" I took another deep breath but didn't reply. "Sometimes there's things around us that have a scent, but we're either too used to it, or its faint enough that we don't remember without smelling it. What else was there? Is this a campground?" Addy asked in what I recognized as being in a deliberately unobtrusive way. "It's a cabin," I replied, searching the mental image for things that may have a scent. "It's an old log cabin, surrounded by white pines. There's a log pile. My brother had been using the chainsaw earlier. My truck is parked in the driveway, it smells like gas because the tank leaks a little bit. Someone had mowed the little patch of grass in front of the cabin." "Is there anyone there, wearing perfume or aftershave?" I nodded my head in the affirmative. Addy gave me time to answer. "She..." I struggled to find words to describe Melissa's scent. How do you describe such a thing to someone? How do you describe a sunset to a blind person, or describe to a deaf person the emotions evoked by the Moonlight Sonata? She smelled like love, and I still smell her on the clothes I keep in her dresser. "You know how strawberry plants don't smell like strawberry? Not like the fake strawberry candy scent?" Of course, she did, but I went on. "A strawberry blossom. Delicate, faint, with just the promise of sweetness." "She was someone special," Addy said, in more of a statement than a question. "I ended up marrying her. She;" A tear rolled down my cheek. "Nine years ago;" I just couldn't force the words out of my mouth. I could tell Addy the exact date and time. I could tell her that we had just gone to see The Martian in the movie theater and that the night was clear and cool after the late August thunderstorm earlier that afternoon. I could tell her what song was playing on the radio. I could tell her the look on Melissa's face when the headlights crossed through the median in front of us. What I couldn't say, was physically unable to, was that nine years ago, Melissa died. "It's okay, dear," Addy said. She had a grandmotherly voice, full of kindness and understanding. For the briefest of moments, the power of that gentle voice made me believe that yes, everything would be okay. "Give me a few minutes, and I'll have something for you to try." I nodded and wandered away from the counter, absently browsing the candles and incense as I tried to compose myself. As I looked through the shop it occurred to me how posh the place seemed. High-dollar products are meant to be sold to people who have the luxury of ignoring price tags. I did not have that luxury. I felt anxiety and a general shame of the complete fuck up I had become. If this costs more than about forty dollars, I wouldn't be able to afford groceries this week. "Charles, it's ready," Addy called from the other side of the store. I walked over and closed my eyes as she extended a small glass bottle filled with clear liquid. I breathed deeply and conjured the scene in my mind. The scent of Addy's mixture hit me like a lightning bolt. It was like reading a book in the dark, and then someone turned on the lights. Everything came into sharp focus like I was there. The smoke, the pines, and, My breath caught in my throat. Buried deep within the mix there was something light, something so tenuous you hardly knew it was there. It was Melissa. In my mind, she threw herself into my arms, and I could smell her. I could smell her. "How?" I asked, looking her in the eyes for the first time since my initial glance. Addy smiled warmly, and I could see genuine care in her face, not just the politeness of a shop owner to a customer. "If she had been wearing perfume, it would have been harder. We remember scents much better than we think we do. Sometimes all we need is a little hint, and it's brought right to the front." Dr. Clarke was right, Addy was good. "Your idea about the strawberry flowers was good. They're very faint and don't smell like much at all, definitely not strawberries. But when you know that you have strawberry flowers, and you smell them, your brain brings up the memory of strawberries. Scents are all connected in our minds, and are rooted deep down at the very foundation of memory." Addy put a rubber stopper in the bottle and carefully placed the bottle in a velvet pouch with her shop's logo on it. She held it out for me to take. A tear dripped off my jaw, and I quickly wiped my face on a sleeve. "How much?" I started to ask, again acutely aware of my wrinkled clothes, my general lack of personal hygiene, and the depressingly small balance of my bank account. Addy cut me off with a raised hand. "Rose is a friend of mine, and any friend of hers is also a friend of mine." She pushed the velvet bag into my hands. "No, I can't;" Addy stopped me again. "Most of my clients just want something that smells nice in their bathroom, or to cover the smell of weed. I'm perfectly happy to take their money." She placed her hands on mine, still clutching the velvet bag. "It's very rare that I get to help someone. Take it as a gift, with my thanks." I was speechless, and fresh tears rolled down my face. I couldn't remember the last time someone was so altruistically kind to me. "Thank you." Was all I could say. To be continued in part 6. Based on a post by NewMountain80, in 6 parts, for Literotica.

Nikki & Brie are fresh off a big night in Hollywood with some big names celebrating their love for the planet at the EMA Awards Show! It was an eye-opening event for Nikki, who learned a lot about the Environmental Media Association, climate change, and walked away inspired. Brie's been involved with EMA for years and wants to bring their messaging and level of activism to the world of professional wrestling. Change can be hard, change can be uncomfortable, but the Twins realize that in order to protect what you love, you need to take action. The state of the Amazon Rainforest is what made Nikki want to get more involved. That and Brie's speech on stage at the awards, going off script and offering bodyslams to everyone in the room. Brie walked away with a passion to respect and support the indigenous people of the Amazon, while Nicole is mystified as to why people wouldn't want to protect the earth. It was an empowering, emotional, and compelling night that they'll carry with them for a lifetime. The heart of the conversation comes when Nikki and Brie meet Yánnuni, the Amazonian woman at the center of a powerful new documentary. The sisters open up about the emotional impact of her story, the fight to protect the rainforest, and what it means to answer the call when someone says, “We need your help,” and the need for hope. It's not just awards & green carpets this week. Nikki & Brie also check out hot Italian priests, break down different types of hangovers, discuss a concerning fish allergy, and question why Gen Z isn't getting on the dance floor. It was a crazy week. Nikki & Brie also had some encounters with women The episode closes out with a double dose of Inspiration & Affirmation! One is a poem about the importance of the Amazon Rainforest, the other a simple quote that puts possession into perspective. For more on EMA: Watch the trailer for Wayumi Call Nikki & Brie at 833-GARCIA2 and leave a voicemail! Follow Nikki & Brie on Instagram, follow the show on Instagram and TikTok and send Nikki & Brie a message on Threads! Follow Bonita Bonita on Instagram Book a reservation at the Bonita Bonita Speakeasy To watch exclusive videos of this week's episode, follow The Nikki & Brie Show on YouTube, Facebook, and TikTok! You can also catch The Nikki & Brie Show on SiriusXM Stars 109! Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Most people try to “heal” their brain with supplements, mindset, or meditation—but this episode reveals the deeper protocol to actually grow a new brain, reverse stress damage, activate 1,100 healing genes, and unlock higher human performance at any age. You'll learn how neuroplasticity, mitochondria repair, plant-based NRF2 activators, and energetic practices work together to rebuild the brain and extend longevity. Watch this episode on YouTube for the full video experience: https://www.youtube.com/@DaveAspreyBPR Host Dave Asprey sits down with Alberto Villoldo, Ph.D.—medical anthropologist, neuroscientist, energy medicine pioneer, and founder of The Four Winds Society, the gold-standard school for modern shamans. He has spent 25+ years studying Amazonian and Andean healing traditions, led the Biological Self-Regulation Lab at San Francisco State University to explore psychosomatic medicine, and authored more than 25 bestselling books on neuroscience, functional medicine, and energy healing. Few people on earth bridge ancient biohacking and modern brain science at this level. He also reveals the forms of nicotine that are safest (spoiler: it's not vapes or cigarettes), how nicotine works at the receptor level, and what the science says about long-term health effects. This episode blends functional medicine, brain optimization, and biohacking into one powerful, myth-busting breakdown. You'll learn: • How to grow a new brain every 22 days using neuroplasticity and mitochondria support • Why plant medicines and NRF2 activators can turn on 1,100 healing genes in 24 hours • The surprising link between nootropics, psychedelics, serotonin, and endogenous DMT • How mindset, belief systems, and placebo/nocebo shape immune function and metabolism • Why RFK's chronic disease warning connects to viral evolution and immune collapse • The real reason carnivore diets work—and when they fail without gut repair • Peptides, GLP-1 agonists, and the future of functional medicine hacking • Why most people sabotage themselves and how to stop fighting your own biology This is essential listening for anyone serious about biohacking, human performance, and longevity, and for those who want to understand how functional biology and mitochondrial science are redefining recovery, energy, and aging. Dave Asprey is a four-time New York Times bestselling author, founder of Bulletproof Coffee, and the father of biohacking. With over 1,000 interviews and 1 million monthly listeners, The Human Upgrade brings you the knowledge to take control of your biology, extend your longevity, and optimize every system in your body and mind. Each episode delivers cutting-edge insights in health, performance, neuroscience, supplements, nutrition, biohacking, emotional intelligence, and conscious living. New episodes are released every Tuesday, Thursday, Friday, and Sunday (BONUS). Dave asks the questions no one else will and gives you real tools to become stronger, smarter, and more resilient. Keywords: NRF2 activation, Neurogenesis and hippocampus repair, Plant-based epigenetic triggers, Psychosomatic health, Serotonin to DMT conversion, Pineal gland methylation, Parasites and brain inflammation, Viral-driven evolution, GLP-1 agonists and longevity, Psilocybin lifespan extension, Autophagy and brain cleanup, Energetic medicine training, Functional peptides, BPC-157, Breathwork and CO2 tolerance, mTOR cycling, Cold exposure and dopamine, Mindset-driven immune function Thank you to our sponsors! • EMR-Tek | https://www.emr-tek.com/DAVE and use code DAVE for 40% off. • Essentia | Go to https://myessentia.com/dave and use code DAVE for $100 off The Dave Asprey Upgrade. • Timeline | Head to https://www.timeline.com/dave to get 10% off your first order. • fatty15 | Go to https://fatty15.com/dave and save an extra $15 when you subscribe with code DAVE. Resources: • Learn more from Alberto at: www.thefourwinds.com and www.albertovilloldo.net • Buy the book ‘Grow A New Brain': https://a.co/d/5lVhrVy • Business of Biohacking | Register to attend October 20-23 in Austin, TX https://businessofbiohacking.com/ • Danger Coffee: https://dangercoffee.com/discount/dave15 • Dave Asprey's BEYOND Conference: https://beyondconference.com • Dave Asprey's New Book – Heavily Meditated: https://daveasprey.com/heavily-meditated • Upgrade Collective: https://www.ourupgradecollective.com • Upgrade Labs: https://upgradelabs.com • 40 Years of Zen: https://40yearsofzen.com Timestamps: 0:00 — Trailer 1:25 — Introduction & Ayahuasca Story 3:15 — Shamanism Beyond Plant Medicine 6:53 — Losing Your Mind to Evolve 10:45 — The 22-Day New Brain Cycle 12:53 — Plant Communication & Direct Knowing 15:35 — Parasites, Liver Failure & Brain Damage 20:25 — Remote Healing & CIA Research 22:40 — Tryptophan, Turkey Farmers & Brain Chemistry 25:19 — Viruses as Evolutionary Drivers 30:30 — Psilocybin & Life Extension 35:25 — Healing with Mindset + Biology 38:52 — Spirit, Purpose & Growing Gods 43:49 — Plants, Protein & mTOR 49:07 — Training the Four Brains 51:16 — Cold Exposure: Pain vs Suffering 54:40 — Who Am I? Living the Question 55:25 — Closing See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Dr. Alberto Villoldo spent years studying Amazonian and Andean shamanic practices, and he noticed something shocking: the illnesses we treat with pills are often rooted in spiritual disconnection. In this episode of the Align Podcast, he joins Aaron to reveal how ancient healing traditions, brain chemistry, and energy medicine intersect. From the pineal gland to soul retrieval, Dr. Villoldo offers insights that challenge the limits of modern medicine and open the door to deep, personal healing.OUR GUESTMedical anthropologist Alberto Villoldo Ph.D. has studied the shamanic healing practices of the Amazon and Andes for over 25 years. He is the founder of the Four Winds Society, an organization dedicated to the bridging of ancient shamanic traditions with modern medicine and psychology. The Four Winds Society Light Body School is internationally recognized as the Gold Standard in shamanic education, preparing wise and ethical energy medicine practitioners. Villoldo is author of numerous books, including Power Up Your Brain; Shaman, Healer, Sage; Mending the Past and Healing the Future with Soul Retrieval; The Four Insights; Courageous Dreaming; One Spirit Medicine and his latest release A Shaman's Miraculous Tools for Healing. thefourwinds.comALBERTO VILLOLDO

On Episode 127 of The Faerie Conclave, Alec interviews Amy the Amazonian all about her Nicol Bolas, God-Pharaoh brawl deck titled  "Petty Theft"! Amy built this deck to focus on committing crimes by stealing her opponent's cards! Amy is an incredible Brawl player, so we discussed the format and how much fun it can be when you play spicy decks like Petty Theft!Check out Amy's Nicol Bolas brawl deck list here.Follow Amy on Twitch here.Subscribe to Amy's YouTube channel here.Follow The Faerie Conclave's content and social medias here.To support The Faerie Conclave, please consider joining my Patreon here.The Faerie Conclave logo and imagery was created by Kirtly Maxfield who can be contacted for design services at thelichencollective.com.The Faerie Conclave theme music was created by Livi Cheney who can be found as soffboilite on SoundCloud.

With over 40 years of experience in acupuncture, Chinese medicine, and natural health care, and two decades immersed in the healing traditions of Amazonian shamanism. Richard Grossman has dedicated his life to helping others transform trauma into personal growth. His work spans continents and consciousness, blending science and spirit in deeply grounded, practical ways. Richard is the author of Trust and Forgive: The Medicine of Your Life, a reflective guide built on half a century of clinical insights, ceremonial leadership, and lived exploration. Far from prescriptive, his message invites listeners to return to joy, peace, and inner truth. Drawing from his background in sound healing, plant medicine, and traditional Asian wisdom, Richard reframes trauma not as a permanent wound but as a catalyst for awakening.    https://www.linkedin.com/in/richard-grossman-59b641/

In episode three, Susan Mathews continues her conversation with Mădălina Diaconu, a researcher at the Department of Philosophy at the University of Vienna, Austria and author of Aesthetics of Weather (2024). Mădălina works on environmental aesthetics, urban aesthetics and phenomenology of perception. Please listen to the first part of this conversation in episode two to hear about the need for a holistic view of our immersion in the atmosphere, thermic auras, and multisensory perception as the basis for empathy.  Our conversation began with tornadoes, their radical dynamic form that makes air visible and creates a figure that is both perfect and dangerous, an ambivalence which diverges from the classical experience of beauty as harmony. There are other figures of the sky like clouds, lightning and the rainbow, but Mădălina was drawn to the tornado's uncontrolled genesis and evolution as it challenges the assumption of the Anthropocene that humans can manipulate and domesticate everything.  She spoke of the limitations of equating materiality with solid matter. Water and air are also material, as are light and other electromagnetic waves, radiation and other phenomena. Mădălina invites a shift not just of how matter is conceptualized, but of the traditional representation of matter as something passive that can be manipulated by humans to instead recognise that we are not the only form of matter who can be assigned activity or agency.  The conversation then moved on to an interrogation of the human fixation on landscapes. Mădălina introduced the concept of landscapability to capture our tendency to compose, through analogy, a landscape even when land may not be present, say on the Arctic ocean as we are surrounded by air, water and ice. She also highlighted the values conveyed within our definition of landscapes, including emotional value such as patriotism, of topophilia. This theory of landscapes is also contextually informed by its origins in landscape painting in Italy and central Europe—a theory emerging from a different culture would not have the same principles. For example, one formed in the Amazonian forests would not have the particular principle of panoramic views.  Mădălina's study also includes work on the tactile aesthetics of cityscapes. A city is full of microclimates. On a hot summer day, you can enter a building and experience shadows and, in the last century, air conditioning. A glass houses can cultivate tomatoes earlier than the climate outside allows. This lack of a monotonous thermic landscape is a performance of civilization but so is paradoxically the creation of blandscapes such as shopping malls. The question of how to cope with and mitigate the consequences of climate change is not only for philosophers, but for architects and urban planners. The solution is not to build more capsules for a select group who can afford them; we need to develop strategies of common survival.  Finally, we discussed the idea of traces. Mădălina spoke of how a trace is a kind of material signature left by someone or by something. They are not ruins but remainders. Traces are present, while also suggesting an absence. Some traces are more enduring than a life itself. Waste is also a trace, though an unwanted one. Some of these waste traces are incontrollable and some, like radioactive waste, are indestructible.  Mădălina closes by urging us to pay attention to the things that surround us in everyday life, all worthy of our time and attention, that could open the doors of our perception to truly atmospheric living. This season of The Subverse has been produced by Tushar Das. A special thank you to Julian Wey for access to his Qumquat studio and Daniel Schwenger for his assistance.  More about the guest: Mădălina Diaconu studied Philosophy (PhD, PhD) and Theology (MA) in Bucharest and Vienna. She teaches as Dozentin at the Department of Philosophy and as lecturer at the Department of Romance Studies of the University of Vienna. She is member of the editorial boards of Contemporary Aesthetics, Studia Phaenomenologica and polylog, a magazine about intercultural philosophy. She authored eleven monographs and (co)edited several books on Kierkegaard, Heidegger, the ontology of art, the phenomenology of the senses, the aesthetics of touch, smell, and taste, urban sensescapes, environmental ethics, animality, atmosphere, and eco-phenomenology. Her latest book is Aesthetics of Weather (Bloomsbury 2024). You can read more about her work here.

Send us a textWhat does it really take to go from being seen by the world to finally being heard—to stop living for expectations and start celebrating your own success?This week's Today is the Day Changemakers podcast guest is the incredible Gwendolyn Osborne—actor, model, CEO, podcast host, and wellness speaker. You may know her from seeing her when she was on The Price Is Right with both Bob Barker and Drew Carey or from her powerful presence in Wonder Woman 1984 and Tyler Perry's All the Queen's Men. But beyond the spotlight, Gwendolyn's story is one of resilience, rediscovery, and redefining success on her own terms.In this episode, Gwendolyn shares her journey from growing up between Bath, England and Miami, to breaking into modeling and acting, to finding her voice after years of being “seen but not heard.” She talks about training as an Amazonian with six-hour days of stunt and fitness work on wonder woman 1984 to, becoming a meditation coach and the transformational moment when she finally looked in the mirror and said, "I see me".She opens up about being a teen mom navigating the entertainment industry, raising three incredible children, and her passion for helping single mothers through She Is Hope LA. And you'll hear her powerful idea of “success parties”—celebrating our wins so we never forget who we are and what we've accomplished.This conversation is about finding your happy, honoring your inner child, and giving yourself permission to play, create, and thrive.To connect with Gwendolyn, visit gwendolynosborne.com, follow her on Instagram at @itsgwendolyn, and check out her podcast, Tea with Gwen, where she highlights the Wonder Women of our time and their wellness journeys.Gwendolyn Osborne will be one of the three keynote speakers at the International Changemakers Forum on October 23rd. Don't miss this opportunity to experience meeting her during this virtual, but very interactive Forum event —free tickets are available now at todayisthedayliveit.com.Be sure to follow us on Facebook and Instagram at Today is the Day Live It for the latest updates and inspiration.And a heartfelt thank you to all of you tuning in from 131 countries and over 1,140 cities around the globe—your support is what keeps this community growing.#WonderWoman, #TodayistheDay, #Changemakers, #PriceisRight, #DrewCarey, #Mediation, #WellnessSupport the show

Welcome to the Psychedelic Conversations Podcast!In this episode of Psychedelic Conversations, recorded in person at Breaking Convention in the UK, we speak with Rebekah Senanayake – a cultural psychologist and PhD candidate specializing in Amazonian traditional knowledge systems. We explore her decade-long fieldwork in the Amazon rainforest, her relationship with master plants, and the profound ritual frameworks surrounding altered states of consciousness. Rebekah shares insights from her recent talk on interspecies communication and the importance of maintaining cultural integrity in the evolving psychedelic space. Together, we reflect on the limitations of reductionist clinical models and the need for long-term, reciprocal relationships with plant medicines. This conversation challenges mainstream narratives and reminds us of the depth, complexity, and ancestral wisdom embedded in these practices.About Rebekah:Rebekah Senanayake is a cultural psychologist and Ph.D. candidate in Cultural Anthropology, specializing in traditional Amazonian knowledge systems. With extensive fieldwork in the Amazon Rainforest, she examines how Indigenous practices inform modern understandings of altered states of consciousness. Rebekah is the founder of the Student Association of Psychedelic Investigation and a key advocate for integrating traditional and scientific perspectives in psychedelic research.Connect with Rebekah:Website: https://www.bekplants.com/Blog: https://bekplants.wordpress.com/LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/rebekah-senanayake-8012b5216Filmed by Rua Acorn, creator of @thegoodtimes and founder of Modular Media®:https://www.modularmedia.co/Thank you so much for joining us! Psychedelic Conversations Podcast is designed to educate, inform, and expand awareness.For more information, please head over to https://www.psychedelicconversations.comPlease share with your friends or leave a review so that we can reach more people and feel free to join us in our private Facebook group to keep the conversation going. https://www.facebook.com/groups/psychedelicconversationsThis show is for information purposes only, and is not intended to provide mental health or medical advice.About Susan Guner:Susan Guner is a holistic psychotherapist with a mindfulness-based approach grounded in Transpersonal Psychology, focusing on trauma-informed, community-centric processes that offer a broader understanding of human potential and well-being.Connect with Susan:Website: https://www.psychedelicconversations.com/Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/susan.gunerLinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/susan-guner/Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/susangunerTwitter: http://www.twitter.com/susangunerBlog: https://susanguner.medium.com/Podcast: https://anchor.fm/susan-guner#PsychedelicConversations #SusanGuner #RebekahSenanayake #BreakingConvention #PsychedelicPodcast #PsychedelicScience #PlantMedicines #PsychedelicResearch #Entheogens

In this raw, and nuanced, reckining filled episode, Shapeshifter returns from a short break and I speak about the noisy world we live in — and what it really means to find your role within it. From political flashpoints across the globe to the addictive hit of online outrage (takes one to know one), I share how easily we can get swept up in cycles that make us feel alive… while quietly distracting us from the deeper, harder work in our own homes and spirits.This is not a call to disengage. It's a call to discernment. To choosing where our fire truly belongs. And it's a reminder that when the world grows louder, our roots can grow deeper. Anchored in the soil of legacy, spirit, and your calling.In this episode we explore: • The addictive dopamine of outrage and why it feels like action • How world events outside the West (Nepal, Panama, Mozambique, Colombia) can shift our perspective • Why online noise can mask unfinished inner work • The grounding practice of rooting deeper when the world rattles • Deepa Iyer's Social Change Ecosystem Map and the roles of healer, disruptor, storyteller, weaver, and more • Letting your purpose unfold in its own time (my journey with Ancestral Awakening) • The gift of not forcing your calling to “pay the bills” — and what happens when you give it time • A preview of Blood and Bones, my Día de los Muertos gathering with Eda, an Amazonian medicine woman Resources & Mentions: • Conversation with Eda, Medicine Woman Episode 17: This is not community help • Deepa Iyer's Social Change Ecosystem Map, find out more here • Ancestral Awakening waitlist for 2026, join hereBLOOD & BONES day of the dead gathering with Eda, icaros, cacao and connection – join the waitlist hereIt's here!!! The Joy Witch Cacao is now available to buy, from El Salvador to the world!Get your Mayan horoscope sign here✨ Want more inspiration? Follow me on Instagram @carogomez_joywitch for deeper conversations on unconventional thinking, creativity, and spirituality! Spread the joy! Did this episode leave you feeling empowered or inspired? Help others find the same magic by leaving a rating and review on your favourite podcast platform. Your feedback is like fuel for the show, and it helps others discover the power within themselves.

Life under the matriarchy, amirite? Looks like you're going on a long camping trip with your Amazonian wife...- - -ANNOUNCEMENT! I have a new tier on Patreon for all photosets going forward. I'll no longer be doing photosets, which means more creative freedom and, in the long run, more audios in general! Plus, the new tier is priced lower- if you were unsure about joining, now's the time!Full spicy version of this audio will be uploaded to my Patreon tonight. Join now for access to this and all past audios:https://www.patreon.com/charleymooasmr- - -Artist credit: masoq095Main ASMR YouTube Channel @charleymooasmr All other links: ⁠https://linktr.ee/charleymoo⁠(please copy/paste linktree if direct is not working! The link DOES work!)Business email (serious inquiries only please!): charleymoobiz@hotmail.com

Chronicling the practices, legends, and wisdom of the vanishing traditions of the upper Amazon, this book reveals the area's indigenous peoples' approach to living in harmony with the natural world. Rainforest Medicine features in-depth essays on plant-based medicine and indigenous science from four distinct Amazonian societies: deep forest and urban, lowland rainforest and mountain.The book is illustrated with unique botanical and cultural drawings by Secoya elder and traditional healer Agustin Payaguaje and horticulturalist Thomas Y. Wang as well as by the author himself. Payaguaje shares his sincere imaginal view into the spiritual life of the Secoya; plates of petroglyphs from the sacred valley of Cotundo relate to an ancient language, and other illustrations show traditional Secoya ayahuasca symbols and indigenous origin myths. Two color sections showcase photos of the plants and people of the region, and include plates of previously unpublished full-color paintings by Pablo Cesar Amaringo (1938-2009), an acclaimed Peruvian artist renowned for his intricate, colorful depictions of his visions from drinking the entheogenic plant brew, ayahuasca ("vine of the soul" in Quechua languages).Today the once-dense mysterious rainforest realms are under assault as the indiscriminate colonial frontier of resource extraction moves across the region; as the forest disappears, the traditional human legacy of sustainable utilization of this rich ecosystem is also being buried under modern realities. With over 20 years experience of ground-level environmental and cultural conservation, author Jonathon Miller Weisberger's commitment to preserving the fascinating, unfathomably precious relics of the indigenous legacy shines through. Chief among these treasures is the "shimmering" "golden" plant-medicine science of ayahuasca or yajé, a rainforest vine that was popularized in the 1950s by Western travelers such as William Burroughs and Alan Ginsberg. It has been sampled, reviled, and celebrated by outsiders ever since.Currently sought after by many in the industrialized West for its powerful psychotropic and life-transforming effects, this sacred brew is often imbibed by visitors to the upper Amazon and curious seekers in faraway venues, sometimes with little to no working knowledge of its principles and precepts. Perceiving that there is an evident need for in-depth information on ayahuasca if it is to be used beyond its traditional context for healing and spiritual illumination in the future, Miller Weisberger focuses on the fundamental knowledge and practices that guide the use of ayahuasca in indigenous cultures. Weaving first-person narrative with anthropological and ethnobotanical information, Rainforest Medicine aims to preserve both the record and ongoing reality of ayahuasca's unique tradition and, of course, the priceless forest that gave birth to these sacred vines. Featuring words from Amazonian shamans--the living torchbearers of these sophisticated spiritual practices--the book stands as testimony to this sacred plant medicine's power in shaping and healing individuals, communities, and nature alike.Ethnobotanist JONATHON "SPARROW" MILLER WEISBERGER was raised in Ecuador and the U.S. He has collected over 2,000 herbarium specimens, including first-time collections of several new species. From 1990 to 2000, Jonathon lived in the Ecuadorian Amazon among five indigenous nationalities, and was influential in the creation of three reserves including the Napo-Galeras National Park. He participated in the demarcation of Waorani territory and in groundwork that helped the Secoya people retain a significant tract of their ancestral homelands. He is the executive director of the Council for Cultural and Biological Diversity (known in Latin America as Fundación OSA), supporting rainforest conservation and cultural heritage projects in Ecuador and Costa Rica. He is the steward of Guaria de Osa Ecolodge (guariadeosa.com), a rainforest and ocean discovery and education center on the remote Osa peninsula, Costa Rica. The author lives in Guaria de Osa, Costa Rica.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/earth-ancients--2790919/support.

The Amazon breathes life into the Ocean. Through airborne rivers, nutrient cycles, and unseen pathways of energy and water, these two great bodies—Forest and Ocean—are intimately intertwined.In this opening session of our Ocean Conversation Series, we are joined by Dr. Rosa Vásquez Espinoza—Peruvian chemical biologist, National Geographic Explorer, and award-winning artist. Raised between Lima and the edge of the Amazon jungle, Rosa's work bridges Indigenous knowledge and modern science in service of biodiversity, conservation, and cultural resilience.This intimate, conversational session explores the nutrient flows between forest and sea, the role of traditional ecological knowledge in scientific understanding, and the art of storytelling as a pathway for ecological healing and reconnection.We also glimpse Rosa's personal journey—her grandmother's backyard “natural pharmacy,” her pioneering research on the Boiling River and medicinal stingless bees, and the global ecosystems that have shaped her vision. Her newly published book, The Spirit of the Rainforest, weaves these threads into an immersive journey through the Amazon—science, spirit, and story entwined.This is a conversation about relationship and reciprocity. A chance to listen to the waters—of land, sea, and self.Dr. Rosa Vásquez Espinoza is a Peruvian chemical biologist, National Geographic Explorer, and award-winning artist whose work bridges Indigenous knowledge and modern science to protect biodiversity and uplift rainforest communities. Founder of Amazon Research Internacional, Rosa has led groundbreaking studies on extreme ecosystems, including the Boiling River and medicinal stingless bees, while advocating for policies that honor the intrinsic value of Nature.With Andean-Amazonian roots and global research spanning from the Amazon to Yellowstone and Alaska, Rosa integrates science, storytelling, and ancestral wisdom to foster deeper connection with the living world. Her recently published book, The Spirit of the Rainforest, offers an immersive journey into Amazonian ecology, culture, and healing.Support the show

In this episode we chat about Vipera aspis, southern Europe's most prevalent viper. With special guest, Herper/photographer Daniel Phillips and his personal experience with the "zig-zag" viper!@VenomExchangeRadio on IGhttps://www.flickr.com/photos/djp_phillips/ @herpetodaniel@nipperread@knobtails.IGwww.VenomExchangeRadio.com@VenomExchangeRadio on YT

It's good to push yourself when you work out, but when you push yourself a bit too far, your Amazonian mommy GF isn't having it. She'll even pin you down to stop you from straining yourself! What a travesty... unless?- - -ANNOUNCEMENT! I have a new tier on Patreon for all photosets going forward. I'll no longer be doing photosets, which means more creative freedom and, in the long run, more audios in general! Plus, the new tier is priced lower- if you were unsure about joining, now's the time!Full spicy version of this audio will be uploaded to my Patreon tonight. Join now for access to this and all past audios:https://www.patreon.com/charleymooasmr- - -Artist credit: twlrare on XMain ASMR YouTube Channel @charleymooasmr All other links: ⁠https://linktr.ee/charleymoo⁠(please copy/paste linktree if direct is not working! The link DOES work!)Business email (serious inquiries only please!): charleymoobiz@hotmail.com

Dr. Beaker and Mike are taken prisoner by a tribe of headhunters while searching for a plant to cure an illness affecting Mitch.Intro special guest: Tom Eames

The genomes of organisms can tell us about evolutionary processes in the past - but can they also give clues about the future? André Yves and Fernanda Werneck tell us about their work on climate adaptation in Amazonian lizards. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

On today's episode of the Outdoor Adventure Lifestyle Podcast, Rick welcomes Camilo Ortega, an adventure guide, experience designer, and passionate advocate for responsible travel based in Colombia. Brought to you this week by The Adventure Travel Conservation Fund Facebook   Twitter   Instagram Love the show? Subscribe,  rate, review, and share! Show Notes WHAT HAPPENED: When I first met the PuA community deep in Colombia's Amazonian transition zone, I assumed I was there to help them build a tourism product. You know, offer guidance, teach best practices, maybe even map out a solid route. But instead, they taught me. About autonomy. About culture. About what happens when a community says: “We don't want to be a stop on someone's bucket list—we want this to bring our stories back to life.” They didn't want their kids leaving for the cities. They didn't want their culture watered down to a “show” for tourists. They wanted tourism to help them remember who they are. And somehow, that remembering started a revival—young people asking questions, elders teaching forgotten traditions, a weaving school reborn, and tools once lost now repurposed into privacy dividers in a jungle lodge. (Which, by the way, is way cozier than you'd think.) PRINCIPLE: It's easy to think your product or service is about solving a problem. But what if it's about helping people reclaim their identity? What if the real “success” is the impact your work has far beyond the transaction? People don't want just experiences—they want transformation. That's true whether you're guiding through the Amazon or guiding your clients through a sales process. TRANSITION: Here's the thing though... Most creators, founders, and community builders I know are so caught up in the deliverables—the steps, the logistics, the perfect pitch—that they miss the deeper reason someone says “yes.” It's not about showing off your expertise. It's about building trust by standing for something bigger than the sale. THAT'S WHY: That's why this episode with Camilo Ortega exists. Because it's not just a conversation about adventure travel—it's a masterclass in how real connection, cultural stewardship, and community-led innovation create experiences people never forget. And if you've ever felt stuck trying to “market” what you do—this might just be the reset your storytelling needs. CALL TO ACTION: If you're tired of selling services that feel flat, uninspiring, or disconnected from your bigger mission—this episode will show you what it really looks like when your product becomes a platform for change. Follow up with Camilo: camilo@colombianproject.com Website: https://www.colombianproject.com/

Thanks to Mila for suggesting one of our topics today! Further reading: The mystery of the ‘missing' giant millipede Never-before-seen head of prehistoric, car-size 'millipede' solves evolutionary mystery A centipede compared to a millipede: Show transcript: Welcome to Strange Animals Podcast. I'm your host, Kate Shaw. Let's finish invertebrate August this year with two arthropods. One is a suggestion from Mila and the other is a scientific mystery that was solved by a recent discovery, at least partially. Mila suggested we learn about centipedes, and the last time we talked about those animals was in episode 100. That's because centipedes are supposed to have 100 legs. But do centipedes actually have 100 legs? They don't. Different species of centipede have different numbers of legs, from only 30 to something like 300. Like other arthropods, the centipede has to molt its exoskeleton to grow larger. When it does, some species grow more segments and legs. Others hatch with all the segments and legs they'll ever have. A centipede's body is flattened and made up of segments, a different number of segments depending on the centipede's species, but at least 15. Each segment has a pair of legs except for the last two, which have no legs. The first segment's legs project forward and end in sharp claws with venom glands. These legs are called forcipules, and they actually look like pincers. No other animal has forcipules, only centipedes. The centipede uses its forcipules to capture and hold prey, and to defend itself from potential predators. A centipede pinch can be painful but not dangerous unless you're also allergic to bees, in which case you might have an allergic reaction to a big centipede's venom. Small centipedes can't pinch hard enough to break a human's skin. A centipede's last pair of legs points backwards and sometimes look like tail stingers, but they're just modified legs that act as sensory antennae. Each pair of a centipede's legs is a little longer than the pair in front of it, which helps keep the legs from bumping into each other when the centipede walks. The centipede lives throughout the world, even in the Arctic and in deserts, but it needs a moist environment so it won't dry out. It likes rotten wood, leaf litter, soil, especially soil under stones, and basements. Some centipedes have no eyes at all, many have eyes that can only sense light and dark, and some have relatively sophisticated compound eyes. Most centipedes are nocturnal. The largest centipedes alive today belong to the genus Scolopendra. This genus includes the Amazonian giant centipede, which can grow over a foot long, or 30 cm. It's reddish or black with yellow bands on the legs, and lives in parts of South America and the Caribbean. It eats insects, spiders--including tarantulas, frogs and other amphibians, small snakes and lizards, birds, and small mammals like mice. It's even been known to catch bats in midair by hanging down from cave ceilings and grabbing the bat as it flies by. Some people think that the Amazonian giant centipede is the longest in the world, but this isn't actually the case. Its close relation, the Galapagos centipede, can grow 17 inches long, or 43 cm, and is black with red legs. But if you think that's big, wait until you hear about the other animal we're discussing today. It's called Arthropleura and it lived in what is now Europe and North America between about 344 and 292 million years ago. Before we talk about it, though, we need to learn a little about the millipede. Millipedes are related to centipedes and share a lot of physical characteristics, like a segmented body and a lot of legs. The word millipede means one thousand feet, but millipedes can have anywhere from 36 to 1,306 legs. That is a lot of legs. It's probably too many legs. The millipede with 1,306 legs is Eumillipes persephone, found in western Australia and only described in 2021.

Young virgin college grad's blind date with an Amazon Goddess. By Bernard Marx – Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Jude was five-six, slim, and had a boyish face that could be better described as pretty than handsome. He compensates by trying to grow a beard. Lyndsey was blonde, beautiful, and built. She was six foot two in heels. Her tits hung like ripe melons. Her juicy thighs and bubble-butt rounded out a form that could silence a room just by walking in. The two of them were all too happy to make their friends uncomfortable with impromptu make out sessions or keep their neighbors up every night with pleasurable moans from their residence. How they met..They were truly the most passionate couple you'd ever seen, if not an unusual one to look at. It's amazing to think that their relationship started off with a prank. At first Jude had been surprised at his friend, Jason, and his generosity that night. Setting up blind dates wasn't normally the kind of thing Jason did. Jason explained that Jude deserved a break after graduating college without having scored even one girl's phone number all four years. Jude showered, shaved, put on his best - and only - suit, and went to the restaurant. The fears that he would be meeting some dumpy chess club girl immediately disappeared when he saw the angel already seated & waiting for him at the table. Her full crimson lips that begged to be kissed, big blue eyes, hair like gold silk, and generous rack stretching out the body-hugging magenta knit dress. “Are you Jude?” Lyndsey asked with a pleasant smile. He gulped. “Yeah.” “I'm Lyndsey, nice to meet you.” She thought Jude was charming and sweet; he thought Lyndsey was enchanting and funny. Jude couldn't believe how lucky he was. But he was incredibly nervous, at the same time. About twenty minutes into the date, through appetizers and drinks; Lyndsey said “Let me go powder my nose.” When she stood up to her full, majestic height, Jude took in her towering statuesque presence. He suddenly felt like he was in an ancient Greek temple. She smiled and walked toward the back restrooms. A man sitting at the nearest table, glanced at her as she walked past him, then locked eyes with Jude and started chuckling. Jude had been the recipient of short jokes for years, but this stranger's laughter was an insult. Jude snorted, then pulled out his phone and texted Jason: Haw! Haw! Real funny, dickhead. Jason's response was three laughing-face emojis with three eggplants. Jude thought about walking out then and there, but that would've been rude to Lyndsey. She's been very pleasant company up til now. It would be better to just ride the date out, then text her tomorrow with some vague excuse about he's too busy to date right now. Rejection is a hideous tormentor. And Jude's fear of rejection often pushed him to do the rejecting, even when his fears were unfounded. Lyndsey came back right as the waiter set their plates down in front of them. “Don't you just love it when you come back from the rest room and your food is waiting for you?” She asked as she sat down. “Um, ah yeah, it's great.” He poked at his salmon. Lyndsey started twirling fettuccini around her fork, an awkward playful smile on her face. “I bet you were surprised at how tall I was, huh?” “What? Oh, no. I mean … you're not that tall.” “Please don't. I'm the same height as both my brothers.” She chuckled. “I'm not self-conscious about it, at least not anymore. High school days were rough, though.” She ate a forkful of pasta. “I know what that's like” Jude replied.  “I'm surprised you didn't run off when you saw how short I was.” Lyndsey looked Jude in the eye and with a reassuring gentle tone, said; “To tell you the truth, I'm not one of those girls who obsesses about guys' heights, I'd be a hypocrite if I did.” She added a smile and a wink. Jude smiled at that. “Jason is such a dick, he thought he was being so funny, setting us up.” “Listen,” Jude said. ”I wouldn't be insulted if you wanted to end this right now.” “Nah, you're cool” Lyndsey said with a smile & a raised eyebrow. Things only got better from there. They laughed and talked while they ate, finishing a whole bottle of wine. When Lyndsey invited Jude to follow her back to her place, he was too buzzed and too enamored to say no. As they entered her condo, she showed him to the couch and sat next to him. “It's been ages since I invited a guy back here,” she purred, stroking Jude's thigh. “Uh huh.” His cock was getting hard. “Me too. I mean - ” Giggling and giddy, she injected, “I know what you mean.” She smelled like flowers. “You're beautiful.” Jude said, in a most worshipful expression. “Thank you, Jude.” She placed both her hands on his cheeks and gently pulled him in for a kiss. Her lips were so soft. He let her tongue creep into his mouth. After a few minutes, he pulled back. “Something wrong?” she asked. “I need to tell you something, Lyndsey.” “What?” “I'm …” He took a deep breath. “I'm … a virgin.” Lyndsey smiled in a most appreciative way. She gently stroked his cheek. "That's fine.” “Really? You still want to be with me?” Jude smiled in obvious relief. Now his dick was hard as a diamond. “Of course, I think it's sweet. Something special saved just for me! I've always wanted to be someone's first.” She gracefully stood up and kicked off her heels with purpose. Turning to look down to him, she added; “I'm going to make this a very special night for you.” She reached behind her back and unhooked her dress, then lowered her dress down around her shoulders. Carefully pulling each arm out of the sleeves; she lowered the fabric down to reveal her luscious melons. They looked even bigger naked: plump, round, and rocking pendulously. Jude reached up for them, but his arms were too short, and she was too tall. Lyndsey bent down, grabbed Jude's hands, and placed them on her breasts; he squeezed & massaged them. They were so soft and warm. “Do you love them?” she asked. “Oh, oh God, yes.” He stammered, struggling to contain her copious flesh in his delicate hands; precum started to ooze from the tip of his dick, still tucked in his pants. “They're all yours, tonight.” Here was this towering example of feminine perfection offering herself to him, it almost didn't seem real. She let him fondle her for another minute before turning around and sliding off the lower half of her dress to reveal her pale, voluptuous ass. It was like twin moons in front of Jude's face, and he felt like he was going to turn into a werewolf. She ripped off her thong, then slapped her right cheek. “I love my ass.” She said, then bent over to twerk. Jude's face grew hot, his dick felt like it was close to bursting out of his pants as he watched Lyndsey's pale ‘badonkadonk' ass quivering in front of him. She turned around again to face her seated date, then pulled Jude up by his collar to stand facing her tits, and said, “You ready?” He nodded resolutely. After throwing off his jacket, he tried to unbutton his shirt, but his fingers kept slipping. Lyndsey softly touched his hand. “It's alright, I got this.” She carefully undid each button, then slid his shirt off, smiling and giving him warm eye contact the whole time. Jude wasn't just about to lose his virginity; he was going to give his body to a beautiful angel who actually cared about him. But it was when she unbuckled his belt that he suddenly became nervous. “Uh, Wait, Jack said, nervously. “I need to tell you -” “It's alright,” she unzipped his pants, and they fell to the floor. “I don't really care about”. She slid down his underwear and gasped - “Size. Oh my gawd!” she screamed in giddy delight. She reverently caressed his organ. “It's like a zucchini. A prized produce at the county fair!” Jude winced. He felt like he could cum any second, so she let go and just knelt there, admiring his full package. She touched his balls. "These feel swollen. When was the last time you jerked off?” “Never.” He winced again. “When I was fourteen, my mom walked in on me. She went on for days, telling me how filthy I was. Shaming me into a state of severe self-loathing that I'm finally just getting past. I've been afraid to touch myself ever since.” “Oh, you poor thing, you don't understand pleasure.” She took his shaft in both hands and gave it a light squeeze. “Don't worry, I'm gonna properly milk this king cobra for you.” Lyndsey eased Jude back sitting the couch. Then positioned herself straddling, facing him, and slid her sopping wet pussy down onto Jude's enormous pole. Both of them shuddered. Her warm, moist sex around his manhood was the greatest sensation he had ever felt. He had to summon all his willpower to stop himself from cumming then and there. “That feels so good,” Jude whispered. “It's about to feel even better.” She started to slowly descend, fully taking his length inside her, then she began to grind side to side, rubbing her clit across his pubic bone. He wrapped his arms around her waist. The feeling of finally having a woman's skin against his body was good enough to make a tear roll down his cheek. Lyndsey engulfed Jude's face in her deep cleavage as she started to buck, undulating her hips back and forth with practiced rhythm. Jude slid his hands around to her ass cheeks, squeezing them like a man holding on for the ride of his life. “Smack my ass, baby,” Lyndsey moaned. Jude gave her cheeks a gingerly tap. “Uh, I said smack it,” she ordered. “I can take it.” An animal was revealing itself as the Amazonian woman sought her sexual release. He raised his hands as high as he could and delivered two thunderous cracks to his lover's luscious ass-cheeks. “Yeah, That's more like it, baby.” She assured him. Their bodies were steaming-hot against each other. Pussy-juice dripped down Jude's cock. Red patches bloomed on Lyndsey's body as her panting grew more intense & her body overheated. Jude had been trying to hold his orgasm, to savor the feeling of being rigidly and fully connected to Lyndsey's warm, wet depths. But now he was almost at his limit, with his head still buried between her massive tits. Jude's first time was perfectly situated. Lyndsey was in charge and she knew he could go off at any time. She was controlling all the action. He just sat there and  enjoyed the ride'. He had years of inactivity (unless you count the nocturnal emissions). But fortunately Jude was lasting long enough to give Lyndsey a fuck to remember, on a pole she didn't think she'd ever get to enjoy. “Emginnasplid,” he groaned into her titty meat. Lyndsey reared back. “What'd you say, baby?” she panted. “I said I'm gonna explode!” “Explode! Yes. Explode inside me, baby. Gimme all that creamy gooey cum!” She arched her back and began a more rapid series of ‘elevator rides' on his cock. Jude caught his breath and then began sucking one of her engorged nipples, while his hands wrapped her slender waistline. After a few more quick pumps, Lyndsey suddenly froze in place. Her body went rigid, her eyes rolled back in her head. Jude held her upper torso, thinking she was going unconscious. Then her pussy clamped around Jude's cock like a trap, triggering his payload of spunt to make their exit. Jude let all resistance go. His own muscles tensed, and his balls contracted as thick cum rocketed into Lyndsey's womb. She smiled blissfully as her depths took a direct hit of his blast. There was one volley, then another, then another; his pulsing dick had a mind of its own. His arousal ascending to unknown heights of ecstasy, sending wave after wave of pleasure into Jude's brain, then tingling all over his entire body. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Ooohh! Oooohhhh!” Lyndsey moaned. Back arched and body quivering, she gripped over the backrest of the couch as though her raw ecstasy would launch her into the ceiling. They both shuddered with one final wave of orgasm before Lyndsey collapsed onto Jude's shoulder. He felt so small with her goddess body on top of him - it felt good somehow, safe. They held each other, panting, their bodies slick with sweat. Once his cock softened & contracted, she rolled off of him. They sat there, catching their breath. This woman is a complete contradiction to everything Jude's mother had brainwashed him into believing. Sex is not ‘filthy'. God made sex. God made sex especially wonderful for humanity to experience! The lies, the shame, the self-loathing; Jude was now free of all of it. And Lyndsey was the best ambassador of this new freedom. She was free from shame and she rescued Jude from shame, as well. “That was amazing.” Lyndsey caressed his cheek. “You're perfect. You're a lovemaking master!! Then Jude started crying. Not only was he finally free, he was able to make a goddess like Lyndsey happy, satisfied, and yet wanting more. "What's wrong?” Lyndsey softly inquired, with her head on his shoulder. “It's …” he tried to say through his tears. “It's just … I thought I might never get to do that with anyone, especially someone as beautiful; as perfect as you.” “Oh, baby.” She rolled off him as she reclined; pulling him over, into her arms. “I'm here now. Don't worry. You'll never be alone again.”  Her words penetrated his soul. This bond of their spirits was indescribable. A holy moment of two hearts becoming one with each other; spirit, soul, and body. Years of Jude's torment were now over. It was far better than all his Christmas mornings, all put together. The greatest gift he could ever dream of, was fully committed to him, and fully satisfied by him. She gently stroked his head until he fell asleep. Jude opened his eyes up to a sunlit living room. He was still on the couch, but it was now evidently the next morning. At first, he thought the previous night had to have been a dream. Jude's world had changed, and he still couldn't fathom the depths of that change. Then he realized he was still buck naked and an angelic female voice was softly singing in the next room. He also heard something sizzling in the next room, & smelled the delicious aroma of bacon. Ignoring any shame, Jude nakedly followed his nose into the kitchen where Lyndsey was standing at the stove. “Morning, sleepy head,” she said with a blissful smile. She was wearing nothing but Jude's dress shirt from the night before, it not only left the bottom of her ass cheeks hanging out, but the top three buttons remained unbuttoned in full surrender to her massive boobs extending out. He sat down at the dining table with plates of fluffy eggs and in a moment she arrived with a pile of crispy bacon. They didn't talk much while eating, they just smiled at each other between bites. “You're a good cook,” Jude said after he finished. “My mom always told me” Lyndsey said, blushing; “The best way to make a man happy is to keep his balls empty, and his stomach full.” “Well, mission accomplished.” Jude declared. She giggled. “Oh Gawd! Last night was amazing.” “You did most of the work, my dear cowgirl.” "Hey, don't be modest. You've got the kind of dick I've been dreaming about,” she said as she wiped her mouth with a napkin and slid her plate aside. He looked down at his member. "I've always known it was, well, above average, but I haven't done anything with it.” She reached across & rubbed his hand. “That's what I'm here for.” Lyndsey declared. “Hey, What's something you've always wanted to do, uh sexually?” “Uh, Everything,” Jude admitted. “Okay? Well, what's the first sex thing that pops into your head?” He looked at Lyndsey's revealed massive tits threatening to pop the straining fourth button off Jude's dress shirt. “Titty fucking?” Jude supplicated. Lyndsey smiled assuringly. She stood & cleared the table completely taking the things into the kitchen, then she came out a second later, and started slowly unbuttoning her man's shirt in a burlesque show presentation. Jude's cock was rock hard by the time she flung it off. She twirled and planted her ass on the end of the table, keeping a sultry expression, she maintained her intense gaze into Jude's eyes; then lowed herself on her back in the middle of the sturdy oak table. “Go ahead.” Was all she said with a slow wink. Jude quickly climbed onto the table, straddling over Lyndsey's torso with his thighs, then lowered his cock into the deep valley of her cleavage. she squeezed her breasts around him, the head of his cock poking through the top of her cleavage, to greet her. The tip of his glans seemed to be staring back to her, wanting her, calling her. “No one's ever been able to stick their dick all the way through,” said Lyndsey with glee. “Your heavenly cock is staring at me, Jude.” The luscious tit cleavage wasn't as stimulating to his cock as her wet, taut pussy, but it still felt good. She loved the experience of getting to hug his ‘pleasure rod' deep in her cleavage. He rolled his hips while kneading her warm, soft titty meat around his member. He had to go slow, but that just meant he could savor the experience more. Their eyes locked, they smiled at each other. Jude's pleasure kept building. When he felt himself reaching climax, he stopped undulating his hips, and started rapid stroking by sliding Lyndsey's tits along his entire shaft. Lyndsey raised her head and opened her mouth. His glans was swollen and purple. His tip's opening was dialated. Then he stopped, & shot a load into her face. Most of it landed inside her mouth. She swallowed the first two volleys, but got hit in the nose when the third volley launched before she was ready. While Jude panted, Lyndsey wiped some residual cum from her nose, then into her mouth with her pinky; and smacked, saying, “That tastes so good.” His knees began to hurt from kneeling on the hard oak table for so long, so Jude hopped off & Lyndsey followed. They faced each other. Even in her bare feet, Jude's face only came up to Lyndsey's shoulders, so he had to look up to meet her eyes. He placed his hands on her waist, then ran his hands over her hips to grab her voluptuous ass. Lyndsey placed a tit over each of his shoulders. He couldn't believe that just the evening before, he had been thinking about walking out on her. This woman had a face like Kaley Cuoco, a body like Kate Upton, an ass like Beyonce, and she was all his. How much luckier could a guy be? “Do you want to take a shower?” she asked. Getting covered in the hot water & rubbing suds all over each other's body, was almost as enjoyable as actual sex. Jude curiously explored every inch of Lyndsey's Amazonian figure with his hands, polishing her like a devotee polishing the idol of a goddess. She also loved the opportunity to explore her well-hung stud. First she shampooed his hair, slowly, sweetly. She then ran her hands down his torso to start washing this cock of a Greek god.  If Jude hadn't spent himself twice, and his body wasn't essentially dormant in the semen-producing process; He'd probably have been ready for ‘round three'. After toweling each other off, Jude went to find his scattered clothes. He picked them up and pulled his phone out of the pants pocket to check if he had any message. There was a text from Jason: “Hey dude, sorry about last night. No hard feelings? Come by and we'll talk about how I can make it up to you.” “Oh really..” Jude said quietly to himself. Lyndsey came out wearing just a bath blanket around her chest. “What is it?” “It's Jason, he sent me a text, inviting me over to apologize.” Jude smirked. “Do you want to come with me?” “Help me pick out something to wear.” Lyndsey said as she turned back to her bedroom. Jude dressed Lyndsey in a baby-blue sweetheart crop-top that showed off her hefty cleavage and a pair of tight designer jeans to flatter the curves of her sultry ass. Jude thought she looked ‘eat me' good, but not nearly as good as the look on Jason's face when he opened his front door and saw them together. “I brought Lyndsey,” said Jude, giving her right butt cheek a squeeze, “is that all right?” “Um, yeah.” Jason stared at them awkwardly. “Aren't you gonna invite us in?” asked Lyndsey, in a sexy voice. “What? Oh, yeah. Come and sit down.” Jason took the armchair, Lyndsey and Jude snuggled together on the opposing sofa. “It was really nice of you to invite us over to see how our date went,” Jude said with a mock smile. Jason continued to stare at the two of them, but mostly at Lyndsey's tit cleavage. “Uh.” “Thanks for introducing me to such a sweet guy,” said Lyndsey, running her fingers through Jude's hair. “We had a lot, of fun last night.” They started making out; moaning, shamelessly sticking their tongues in each other's mouths. It was otherwise silent, as Jason watched them for over a full minute before saying; “Alright, alright, you can stop.” Jude pulled his face away from Lyndsey's. “What do you mean, Jason?” “Yeah,” said Lyndsey, “can't a girl show her new man some loving?” “I know you're just fucking with me.” “Now, what makes you say that?” asked Lyndsey. “Come on,” Justin pleaded. “There's no way a girl like you is so crazy about a guy like him.” Jude stood up & squinted. “Some friend you are.” “Sorry, but I'm just being honest.” Then Justin looked at Lyndsey; “Lyndsey, what could he possibly have that makes you fall in love after one date?” Lyndsey scooted to the edge of the sofa behind Jude & reached around his waist. She unbuckled Jude's belt, unzipped his fly, and pulled out his anaconda. Jason's eyes went wide. “How's that for a reason?” said Lyndsey, peeking around, Jude's waist on his left side. Then she aimed his shaft over toward her face, and licked around his cock head in swirls. Jude lovingly rested his hand on Lyndsey's devoted head, and he gave Jason a satisfied smile. Lyndsey's tits were hardly contained at all, as she remained bent over. She knew Jason was tortured & devastated. Having sufficiently tormented their host, the couple thanked him again for his matchmaking kindness, and went back to her place for a swim, and more adventures. By Bernard Marx for Literotica

Phyllomedusa bicolor, the giant leaf frog, bicolor tree-frog, giant monkey frog, or waxy-monkey treefrog, is a species of leaf frog. It can be found in the Amazon basin of Brazil, Colombia, Bolivia, and Peru, and can also be found in the Guianan Region of Venezuela and the Guianas, and in Cerrado of the state of Maranhão in Brazil.Kambô is an oozy substance harvested from the defensive skin secretions of the Amazonian giant monkey tree frog. In the traditional medicine of some indigenous peoples of the Amazon, Kambô is applied to superficial burns on the skin of participants to produce an intense purging effect.In the past decade, Kambô use has also been on the rise in neo-shamanic or complementary medicine in Western countries.Ambre Marie originally was running Rights Society, but these days she has developed into researching wellness and wholeness. She is also a yoga teacher and practitioner and a death doula . This multi-talented lady has been on and continues on a journey of self-discovery, development and aims to create a better world.Find out more about Chakras, wellness, stillness and what, exactly, is Death Doula.Her life and teachings are in direct contradiction to the non-stop, full on unrelenting city of her residence, Las Vegas.Her methods are aimed at improving quality of life in a comparatively short time by balancing energies and influences.Book              : Unifying The Whole is available through her Etsy                         store. A website to accompany the book is being                         developed.Shop               : HuemanSol Instagram      : HuemanSol She is currently developing Unifying The Whole, a self-development program.Become a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/the-opperman-report--1198501/support.

In this episode of The Psychedelic Podcast, Paul F. Austin speaks with Mariah Gannessa, founder of Four Visions, a plant medicine platform rooted in sacred reciprocity and indigenous partnership.  Find full show notes and links here: https://thethirdwave.co/podcast/episode-317/?ref=278 Mariah shares her decade-long apprenticeship with the Inga people of Colombia and her journey creating Four Visions as a reverent bridge between Amazonian healing traditions and modern seekers. The conversation explores the Four Visions of the Yahé tradition, the nuances of cultural appropriation vs. cultural exchange, and the responsibilities of Western entrepreneurs engaging with indigenous medicines. Mariah also discusses how Four Visions reinvests in indigenous communities and why the concept of sacred reciprocity is central to her mission. Join Paul F. Austin and Mariah Gannessa on August 21st at 10am PT / 1pm ET for Hapé 101 for Practitioners, Coaches & Guides, a free live webinar hosted through the Psychedelic Coaching Institute. Whether you're new to hapé or looking to deepen your practice, you'll gain practical, respectful guidance on working with this sacred Amazonian snuff—personally and professionally. Mariah Gannessa has spent the last decade immersed in the healing cultures of the Amazon and has dedicated her life's work to the plants and indigenous peoples of the rainforest. Her healing journey during her decade-long apprenticeship in study and service with the Inga tribe of Putumayo was a catalyst for her evolution as an entrepreneur, philanthropist and musician. Mariah acts as a bridge in the sharing of plant medicines with the world in order to support humanity's healing. She is the founder of Four Visions, a global leader in supporting indigenous communities through direct commerce partnerships, donations, and sponsoring charitable initiatives. In partnership with her teacher, world-renowned healer and Ingano Botanist, Taita Juanito, she founded MAGIC Fund, spearheading projects to preserve the Amazonian peoples, their cultures, and lands. Her work in service is fully inspired by a vision to leave a legacy of a better Earth for future generations. Highlights: How the Four Visions of Yagé shape healing Redefining sacred reciprocity in a globalized world A Western entrepreneur's path through plant medicine apprenticeship Why cultural exchange is not always appropriation The role of reverence in spiritual entrepreneurship Bridging Amazonian wisdom with Western healing needs Building a mission-driven e-commerce platform Plant allies for the heart, grief, and dreaming Remembering ancestral wisdom in a disoriented world The medicine path as both business and spiritual devotion Episode Links: Four Visions MAGIC Fund Hapé 101 for Practitioners, Coaches & Guides Episode Sponsors: Psychedelic Coacing Institute's Intensive for Psychedelic Professionals in Costa Rica - a transformative retreat for personal and professional growth. Golden Rule Mushrooms - Get a lifetime discount of 10% with code THIRDWAVE at checkout

The devastating bushfires in Australia have been front and center in the news this month, with a total area of around 8.4 million hectares burned as of the 6th of January. The images of smoke plumes visible from space and eerie orange skies reminded us here at Terra Informa of the wildfires in the Amazonian rainforest this past summer. So, this week we are revisiting an archive episode from August 2019, where we discussed the state of the wildfires and Terra Informer Elizabeth Dowdell interviewed interdisciplinary scholar Cristiana Seixas about her work on socio-ecological systems and protecting the environment in Brazil.  ★ Support this podcast ★

A conversation with Henna Maria on plant medicine, spiritual sovereignty, and the fight for authentic healingThe psychedelic renaissance is here—but are we losing the soul of the medicine in the process?In this powerful episode, I sit down with Henna Maria, human rights activist and founder of Dawn of Peace, to explore one of the most critical conversations of our time: the difference between sacred ceremony and clinical commodification in psychedelic healing.Henna brings a rare perspective—12 years living with indigenous communities in Peru, direct experience with plant medicine traditions, and unflinching activism on the frontlines of medical freedom. Her message is urgent: we're at a crossroads where the pharmaceutical industry threatens to strip the spirit from these sacred medicines, just as they did with cannabis.What You'll DiscoverThe Sacred vs. The SyntheticWhy context matters more than compound—and how the Western medical model fundamentally misunderstands what these medicines are for.The Real Risks of "Democratized" PsychedelicsFrom spiritual attachments to energetic parasites—what happens when you open your consciousness without proper protection and guidance.Ancestral Wisdom Meets Modern HealingHow Henna's journey from European activism to Amazonian apprenticeship led her back to Finland to revive her own cultural roots.Beyond Individual HealingWhy true regeneration requires moving from personal transformation to collective cultural revival—and what that looks like in practice.The Stakes Are Higher Than You ThinkThis isn't just about psychedelics. It's about spiritual sovereignty—our right to connect directly with the divine without corporate intermediaries. It's about honoring indigenous wisdom instead of extracting and commodifying it. It's about understanding that healing isn't a product you consume, but a sacred relationship you cultivate.As Henna puts it: "When you take an entheogenic, you put a red light on in the spirit world saying 'Hello, I'm here.' If you don't have a ceremonial space to protect you, you're wide open and all manner of things can jump in."A Call to Conscious ActionWhether you're curious about plant medicine, already walking this path, or simply care about the future of healing, this conversation will challenge you to think deeper about:* What makes medicine truly sacred vs. merely therapeutic* How to honor indigenous wisdom without appropriating it* The role of ceremony, community, and cultural context in healing* Why the fight for medical freedom is ultimately spiritualThis is regenerative culture in action—where we invite you to discover new/ancient ways of living that not only heals the self but it also benefits all life. Check out our full Regenerative Culture Website for our workshops, programs, courses and retreats. And stay updated with the latest by subscribing to our newsletter.Listen now and join the conversation about what authentic medicine looks like in the 21st century.Connect with Henna Maria:Dawn of Peace: https://dawnofpeace.org/Instagram: @hennamaria22Continue the Conversation:What's your experience with sacred vs. clinical approaches to healing? Share your thoughts in the comments below.Regenerative Culture Chronicle is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.If this resonates, please share it with someone who needs to hear this message. The future of conscious healing depends on these conversations happening in community, not isolation.(This description summary was written in collaboration with Claude.ai)#PsychedelicMedicine #SacredActivism #RegenerativeCulture #SpiritualSovereignty #PlantMedicine #ConsciousHealing Get full access to Regenerative Culture Chronicle at regenerativecultureworld.substack.com/subscribe

13,000 to 12,000 years ago... From megafauna hunters in Tierra del Fuego to Amazonian rock painters, the formation of early South America hunter gatherer societies was a complex process, and a sudden burst of distinct human cultures appeared at the end of the Ice Age.Support the show

Send me a Text MessageWhat if the grief you carry isn't a burden, but a teacher?In this deeply moving episode, Brian is joined by integrative healer Dr. Richard Grossman to explore how trauma—no matter how devastating—can become a path to awakening. With over 40 years of experience in Traditional Chinese Medicine and Amazonian plant medicine, Dr. Grossman shares the pivotal moment he received the message: “Trust and forgive.”Together, they dive into why true healing often begins not with answers, but with presence. Whether you're wrestling with recent loss, ancestral trauma, or feeling stuck despite years of therapy, this conversation offers a fresh lens—and genuine hope.

Hear about travel to Suriname as the Amateur Traveler talks to Mike Power from SmallOfTheRoad.blogspot.com about his recent trip to this South American country. Why should you go to Suriname? Mike says, "It's an undiscovered little gem. I'm just surprised it's not more popular. The number one draw there would be nature and ecotourism. There's a ton to see. As much as 95% of the country is covered in rainforest. And so ecotourism and the wildlife, especially a lot of birds, monkeys, etc. The second one would be diversity. So, it's actually a very diverse country. And in particular, I found the maroon communities that live inland fascinating. These are descendants of former escaped slaves. And then finally, I'd say Paramaribo, which is the main city in Suriname. It's now a UNESCO World Heritage Site with these old buildings that date back to the 17th and 18th centuries." Here's the itinerary Mike recommends for Suriname: Get deep into the primary rainforest to experience wildlife and pure Amazonian jungle. Mike went to Nature Resort Kabalebo, which offered guided river trips, forest hikes, waterfalls, night walks, abundant birds, monkeys, poison dart frogs, and tapirs.   1. Interior Rainforest Lodge (3 nights). ... https://amateurtraveler.com/travel-to-suriname/ Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Orange peels to luscious forest, WhatsApp banned, gay marriage statistics in the Netherlands, and more at the Time Sink!12 Angry Men12,000 Tonnes of Dumped Orange PeelCosta RicaLos AngelesBaja CaliforniaWhatsApp banned on US House of Representatives devices20 years of gay marriage

Alberto Belli sits down with me to talk about his fatherhood journey. He shares some new parenting experiences since we talked last time on the podcast. After that we talk about his latest movie, Dora And The Search For Sol Dorado. He talks about putting his spin on the beloved Dora the Explorer franchise. Lastly, we finish the interview with the Fatherhood Quick Five.  About Alberto Belli Alberto Belli is a computer science engineer whose love for storytelling turned him into a director. He moved from Mexico to LA. There he got his MFA from the USC School of Cinematic Arts. In addition, he received the prestigious John Huston directing merit scholarship. His latest project is the reboot of the Dora And The Search For Sol Dorado live-action movie for Paramount. His previous movie, Disney's The Naughty Nine, is a Christmas action/adventure film. It was nominated for 3 Emmys (including outstanding fiction special and VFX). His eclectic work, including commercials, TV episodes, and movies, has been recognized at Oscar-qualifying film festivals, including SXSW, HollyShorts, and Cannes Lions. Make sure you follow Alberto on Instagram at @abelli. In addition, check out his new film, Dora and the Search for Sol Dorado at Paramount+ and Nickelodeon. About Dora And The Search For Sol Dorado Dora and the Search for Sol Dorado, is on Paramount+ and Nickelodeon. The world's greatest explorer and her friends will trek through the perilous dangers of the Amazonian jungle in search of the ancient treasure of Sol Dorado to prevent it from falling into enemy hands. Dora, who returns as a 16-year-old, is played by Samantha Lorraine. The cast also includes: Jacob Rodriguez as Diego, Dora's 17-year-old loyal cousin and jungle-exploring partner; Mariana Garzón Toro as Naiya, Diego's bold and no-nonsense coworker; Acston Luca Porto as Sonny, Naiya's younger brother with boundless energy and curiosity; Daniella Pineda as Camila the Crusader, a legend in the world of archaeology and Dora's childhood hero; and Gabriel “Fluffy” Iglesias, as the voice of Boots, Dora's monkey sidekick and best friend. The film is directed by Alberto Belli.  About The Art of Fatherhood Podcast  The Art of Fatherhood Podcast follows the journey of fatherhood. Your host, Art Eddy talks with fantastic dads from all around the world where they share their thoughts on fatherhood. You get a unique perspective on fatherhood from guests like Bob Odenkirk, Hank Azaria, Joe Montana, Kevin Smith, Danny Trejo, Jerry Rice, Jeff Foxworthy, Patrick Warburton, Jeff Kinney, Paul Sun-Hyung Lee, Kyle Busch, Dennis Quaid, Dwight Freeney and many more.

This week, Laci welcomes Jennifer Welch (I've Had It Podcast) to explore Juliette D'Souza, an ordinary British woman who masqueraded as a healer with a secret connection to a source of power deep in the Amazon rainforest. For over 10 years, she convinced 11 victims to hand over $1 million, nailing their cash fortunes to a tree deep in the South American jungle. Stay schemin'!Did you miss out on a custom signed Scam Goddess book? Look no more, nab your copy on PODSWAG Keep the scams coming and snitch on your friends by emailing us at ScamGoddessPod@gmail.com.CON-gregation, catch Laci's TV Show Scam Goddess, now on Freeform and Hulu! Follow on Instagram:Scam Goddess Pod: @scamgoddesspodLaci Mosley: @divalaciJennifer Welch: @mizzwelch Research by Kathryn Doyle  SOURCEShttps://www.camdennewjournal.co.uk/article/spiritual-healer-who-lived-high-life-faces-hoax-chargeshttps://www.culteducation.com/group/1289-general-information/27367-juliette-d-souza-found-guilty-of-1million-shaman-faith-healing-fraud.htmlhttps://www.pressreader.com/uk/sunday-express-1070/20140531/281900181259831?srsltid=AfmBOorLG--7SCKmnB67nhm76KbUtoOJ93kTfNwWaRdcOx_RsU7mkMklhttps://www.ft.com/content/58dbd5cc-a7c4-49e0-b259-e3a7349888a9https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2014/may/30/fraudulent-faith-healer-jailed-10-yearshttps://pressgazette.co.uk/publishers/nationals/sunday-times-reporter-followed-shaman-to-south-america-1m-fraud-trial-told/https://www.vice.com/en/article/the-witch-doctor-of-hampsteads-sad-trail-of-destruction/https://news.sky.com/story/fake-shaman-juliette-dsouza-gets-10-years-10403049https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2657553/How-people-duped-Britains-preposterous-woman-Handed-millions-promised-Amazonian-witch-doctor-offer-cures.html Subscribe to SiriusXM Podcasts+ to listen to new episodes of Scam Goddess ad-free and a whole week early. Start a free trial now on Apple Podcasts or by visiting siriusxm.com/podcastsplus.

The fourth of 4 Episodes with Outdoor Adventure Photographer Sergio Bolivian providing tips and advice to improve your adventure photography. Facebook   Twitter   Instagram Love the show? Subscribe,  rate, review, and share! Sign up for my Newsletter  HERE I'd love to hear your feedback about the show! You can contact me here:  rick@ricksaez.com Show Notes WHAT HAPPENED – Personal Story: There I was, deep in the Amazon, camera in hand, soaking in this explosion of color—bright blue water, rusty orange clay, jungle green overhead, and that soft golden light photographers dream about. The kind of scene that doesn't just ask to be photographed—it demands it. So what did I do? I lined up my shot, textbook rule-of-thirds style. Sky in the top third, water in the bottom, everything “perfect.” But something felt… off. That's when I said screw it, let's break some rules. I shifted the frame. Horizon smack in the middle. My boat creeping in from the corner, becoming this perfect leading line. It looked weird… until it didn't. Until it looked just right. It was one of those rare, unrepeatable moments. In five minutes, the light would shift, the river would curve, and that magic scene? Gone forever. But because I trusted my eye over the rulebook, I got the shot—and every time I look at it, I feel that moment again. PRINCIPLE: Here's the thing—creative freedom doesn't mean ignoring the rules; it means understanding them well enough to know when to ditch them. Composition is a tool, not a cage. The rule of thirds, leading lines, all that jazz? It's there to guide your storytelling, not police it. Your camera is just the vehicle. You're the driver. TRANSITION: But so many of us get stuck. Not because we're not “creative enough,” but because we cling to the rules like a safety blanket. We're afraid to break out of the grid and trust our own visual instincts. And let's be honest—most beginner photographers aren't struggling because they don't have the gear. They're struggling because they're trapped by formula, instead of finding their own rhythm. THAT'S WHY: That's why this episode with Sergio is a breath of fresh, Amazonian air. We dive into composing wild spaces with intention, not restriction. We explore how to blend intuition with technique so your photos tell your story, not just the story the rulebook approves of. CALL TO ACTION: Tired of taking “technically correct” photos that still feel flat? Frustrated when your shots don't match what you felt in the moment? Listen to this episode now and start capturing the kinds of images that make people stop and feel something

The Amazon has been imagined as a pristine wilderness, one in need of protection from development. This framing has often treated the Amazon as a place without history, practically untouched before the arrival of colonizers in South America. Statistics is helping show the history is much more complicated than that and it's the focus of this episode of Stats and Stories with guest Dani Gamerman. Gamerman is Emeritus Professor at Federal University of Rio de Janeiro, where he was professor of statistics from 1996 to 2019. He is the author of numerous books and research papers, and the StatPop blog. He was one of two statisticians who worked on a Science paper showing evidence of manmade earthworks deep in heart of Amazonia and is also the author of a Significance article examining the use of statistics to map this hidden history of the Amazon.

For fans of the compelling critical and investigative style of best-selling authors Graham Hancock and Brian Muraresku, the first detailed account of the history and science of the world's strangest and most mysterious drug - DMT.DMT is the world's strangest and most mysterious drug, inducing one of the most remarkable and yet least understood of all states of consciousness. This common plant molecule has, from ancient times to the modern day, been used as a tool to gain access to a bizarre alien reality of inordinate complexity and unimaginable strangeness, populated by a panoply of highly advanced, intelligent, and communicative beings entirely not of this world.In a story that begins in the Amazonian rainforests and ends somewhere beyond the stars, Andrew Gallimore presents the first detailed account of the discovery of DMT and science's continuing struggle to explain how such a simple and common plant molecule can have such astonishing effects on the human mind. The history of the drug involves many fascinating characters from the scientific and literary worlds ― including legendary ethnobotanist Dr. Richard Schultes; renegade beat writer and drug aficionado William S. Burroughs; philosopher and raconteur Terence McKenna; and the high priest of the 1960s psychedelic revolution, Dr. Timothy Leary. In the end, the story of DMT forces us to reconsider our most basic assumptions about the nature of reality and our place within it.ANDREW R. GALLIMORE is a chemical pharmacologist, neurobiologist, and writer, and one of the world's leading experts on psychedelics. He is the author of two books on the science of psychedelics, Alien Information Theory: Psychedelic Drug Technologies and the Cosmic Game and Reality Switch Technologies: Psychedelics as Tools for the Discovery and Exploration of New Worlds. He lives and works in Tokyo.GRAHAM HANCOCK is the author of major international non-fiction bestsellers including The Sign and the Seal and Fingerprints of the Gods. His books have sold more than seven million copies worldwide and have been translated into thirty languages. His public lectures, radio and TV appearances, including the TV series Quest For The Lost Civilization and Flooded Kingdoms of the Ice Age, as well as his strong presence on the internet, have put his ideas before audiences of tens of millions. He resides in the UK.www.buildingalienworlds.comBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/earth-ancients--2790919/support.

Jeff Bezos is getting married in Venice… but did ya know Venice was the Amazon of the Old World?Nike is pinning its turnaround on a snoafer (a sneaker/loafer)… it's not a throwback, it's a flowforward.NYC democrats just nominated a socialist mayoral candidate… because Wall Street has changed.Plus, the hottest new $1 unicorn startup… is a tech company for cows.$AMZNWant more business storytelling from us? Check out the latest episode of our new weekly deepdive show: The untold origin story of… Dr Pepper

Host Brian Walsh takes up ImpactAlpha's top stories with editor Jessica Pothering. Up this week: Teeing up November's Global Climate Summit COP 30 in Brazil with inclusive nature-based, Indigenous-led and catalytic climate capital. A new tool that helps direct scarce concessional capital for adaptation finance to where it's most needed (09:45). And why more investors are taking an aging-lens to their impact investments (13:38).Story links:"Teeing up COP30 in Brazil with inclusive, nature-based and catalytic climate capital," by Gilberto Lima.“⁠Fund managers center Indigenous communities to drive capital to the Amazon⁠,” by Erik Stein."New tool for adaptation finance directs concessional capital where it's needed most,” by Erik Stein.“A market hiding in plain sight: The case for aging-lens investing,” by SCAN Foundation's Brendan Ahern and Xenia Viragh.

Host Brian Walsh takes up ImpactAlpha's top stories with editor Jessica Pothering. Up this week: Teeing up November's Global Climate Summit COP 30 in Brazil with inclusive nature-based, Indigenous-led and catalytic climate capital. A new tool that helps direct scarce concessional capital for adaptation finance to where it's most needed (09:45). And why more investors are taking an aging-lens to their impact investments (13:38).Story links:"⁠Teeing up COP30 in Brazil with inclusive, nature-based and catalytic climate capital⁠," by Gilberto Lima.“⁠⁠Fund managers center Indigenous communities to drive capital to the Amazon⁠⁠,” by Erik Stein."⁠New tool for adaptation finance directs concessional capital where it's needed most⁠,” by Erik Stein.“⁠A market hiding in plain sight: The case for aging-lens investing⁠,” by SCAN Foundation's Brendan Ahern and Xenia Viragh.

Many nonprofits invest valuable time and money into messaging that never quite connects. In today's episode, Josh Gryniewicz interviews Kurt Shaw about innovative strategies for finding and amplifying the voices that inspire action and change. You'll learn practical techniques for building trust, co-creating stories with community members, and using both fictional and non-fictional narratives to reveal deeper truths that challenge the status quo and create more genuine, transformative communication. Free 30-minute fundraising consultation for NPFX listeners: http://www.ipmadvancement.com/free Want to suggest a topic, guest, or nonprofit organization for an upcoming episode? Send an email with the subject "NPFX suggestion" to contact@ipmadvancement.com. Additional Resources IPM's free Nonprofit Resource Library: https://www.ipmadvancement.com/resources [NPFX] Flipping the Script: Using Narrative Strategy to Improve Messaging and Prevent Donor Attrition https://www.ipmadvancement.com/blog/flipping-the-script-using-narrative-strategy-to-improve-messaging-and-prevent-donor-attrition [NPFX] Breaking Down Barriers to Social Change https://www.ipmadvancement.com/blog/breaking-down-barriers-to-change [NPFX] How Nonprofits Can Stop the Spread of Fake News & Misinformation with Storytelling https://www.ipmadvancement.com/blog/how-nonprofits-can-stop-the-spread-of-fake-news-misinformation-with-storytelling [NPFX] When Your Nonprofit's Case for Support Just Isn't Working https://www.ipmadvancement.com/blog/when-your-nonprofit-s-case-for-support-just-isn-t-working [NPFX] Engaging Audiences with Effective Messaging & Storytelling — What Works on Tough Issues https://www.ipmadvancement.com/blog/engaging-audiences-with-effective-messaging-storytelling-what-works-on-tough-issues Josh Gryniewicz, founder of Odd Duck, a storytelling for social change consultancy, has spent his career in nonprofit. He served as the communication director for Cure Violence, an internationally renowned violence prevention program featured in the award-winning film The Interrupters. Josh helmed the rebrand of Integrate Health, a global health initiative in West Africa, helping increase their budget by nearly $1 million. Most recently, Josh led communication efforts for Data Across Sectors for Health (DASH), a program focused on national multi-sector data sharing to address social determinants of health. He is the co-author of the national bestseller, Interrupting Violence, a moving story of redemption and social change. https://www.linkedin.com/in/jgryniewicz/ https://oddduck.io/ Kurt Shaw studied philosophy at Williams and classics at Harvard, but his most formative education came from two years in Central American refugee camps and Colombian slums, where he found the thinking of poor and marginalized people more compelling than that of many philosophers. Kurt built the world's largest network of grassroots organizations serving street children, helping reduce the number of kids living on Latin American streets. With co-director Rita da Silva at Usina da Imaginação, he pioneered collaborative filmmaking with youth — directing the first feature made entirely by ex-child soldiers, producing an indigenous telenovela in Bolivia, and creating the first fictional film in the Amazonian Tukano language. Their film The Princess in the Alleyway was named Best Film of 2017 by the Subversive Cinema Society, and their 2019 documentary The Other Side of the Other aired for two years on Brazilian public TV. In addition to publishing academic articles, novels, and books on topics from political philosophy to Amazonian epidemiology, he's also produced hip-hop and pop albums, and earned a Fulbright, Harvard's First Decade Award, the Freedom to Create Prize, and the UN Intercultural Innovation Award. In 2022, he was named an Academic Visitor at Oxford University. https://usinadaimaginacao.org/ https://br.linkedin.com/company/usina-da-imagina%C3%A7%C3%A3o/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W7QgkCOElSc https://shinealight.org Russ Phaneuf, a co-founder of IPM Advancement, has a background in higher education development, with positions at the University of Hartford, Northern Arizona University, and Thunderbird School of Global Management. As IPM's managing director & chief strategist, Russ serves as lead fundraising strategist, award-winning content creator, and program analyst specializing in applied system dynamics. https://www.linkedin.com/in/russphaneuf/ Rich Frazier has worked in the nonprofit sector for over 35 years. In his roles as senior consultant with IPM Advancement and founder of VisionConnect LLC, Rich offers extensive understanding and knowledge in capital campaigns, fund development, strategic planning, and board of directors development. https://www.linkedin.com/in/richfrazier/ https://www.visionconnectllc.com/

It's time for another edition of Think Theory Radio's "Awesome Archaeology!!!" Oldest known human structure every found discovered to be 23,000 years old! Are sunken islands discovered off the coast of Spain the mythical Atlantis? Massive Menominee agricultural site found in Michigan shows advanced farming technique. First depiction of the Milky Way galaxy discovered on Egyptian sarcophagus! Plus, ancient Amazonian cities, Greek marble pyramid island, and much more!!!

We exist in a world of whispers, where we're constantly monitoring our volume, constantly worried about disturbing others. You're in your apartment, your house, your office - and the idea of just letting out a primal scream? It feels absolutely mortifying. While the world teaches us to suppress our voice, to stay quiet, to 'be appropriate'... ancient masters understood that your authentic sound carries the frequency of your soul's liberation. They knew that trapped in your throat chakra lies not just your voice - but your power to reshape reality itself. Think about it - when was the last time you actually let your voice go to its full power? When did you last express exactly what you were feeling without filtering it through 'what will people think?' We've been so conditioned to keep quiet, to be polite, to never be 'too much' that we've literally forgotten what our authentic voice even sounds like. For decades, this knowledge was hidden in expensive therapy sessions and exclusive spiritual circles. But what I'm about to share with you comes from the deepest levels of consciousness research, backed by measurable brain science, and validated by thousands of years of spiritual practice. Because here's what they don't want you to know: your voice isn't just how you communicate - it's how you create. And when you unleash its full power through the primal scream, you don't just release trauma... you literally activate dormant DNA, awaken kundalini energy, and step into a higher version of yourself. In ancient Greece, the Anastenaria rituals combined fire-walking with music and cathartic vocalization - they understood that sound could literally purify the soul and heal trauma. Tibetan monks have used singing bowls in their monasteries for over a thousand years, believing that pure karma produces clear, powerful tones while impure karma creates weak, distorted sounds. The Sufi mystics knew this secret too - their dhikr practices use rhythmic vocalization to achieve direct divine connection. Indigenous shamans across every continent - from the Australian Aboriginal didgeridoo healers to the Amazonian curanderos with their sacred icaros - they all discovered the same truth: sound is the bridge between the physical and spiritual realms.  

In this fascinating episode, Frank sits down with Nikki O'Malley, owner and Master Cambo practitioner from Empowered Wellness Solutions. They delve deep into the wonders of Kambo, a natural remedy derived from the Amazonian frog's secretion, known for its potent antibacterial, antimicrobial, and anti-inflammatory properties. Nikki shares her personal journey of overcoming Lyme disease through Kambo and how this unique therapy has changed her life and many others. They discuss the science behind Kambo, its applications, benefits, and the profound physical and mental transformations it can trigger. Whether you're dealing with chronic pain, fatigue, depression, or simply looking to enhance your overall health, this episode provides valuable insights into the world of Kambo.If you or someone you know wants to be featured in our next podcast, message us on Facebook!

Roger Ver, early adopter of Bitcoin, update on case :: Did Roger Ver's speech cause him to be targeted by the gov? :: Judge bans facial expressions in court :: Polish onion moments, a lesson in history :: Waking up to the systemic issue of police violence :: FreeIanNow.org :: Taxation is extortion :: If you don't like the US you cannot just leave :: Are kings ordained by God? :: How cults get started :: A fungus that could become the next covid :: Global warming is a scare tactic :: Reptilians on God TV :: Sarah answers prayers and is psychic :: Amazonian tribe smeared as porn addicts :: 2025-05-25 Hosts: Bonnie, Rich E Rich, Riley

Roger Ver, early adopter of Bitcoin, update on case :: Did Roger Ver's speech cause him to be targeted by the gov? :: Judge bans facial expressions in court :: Polish onion moments, a lesson in history :: Waking up to the systemic issue of police violence :: FreeIanNow.org :: Taxation is extortion :: If you don't like the US you cannot just leave :: Are kings ordained by God? :: How cults get started :: A fungus that could become the next covid :: Global warming is a scare tactic :: Reptilians on God TV :: Sarah answers prayers and is psychic :: Amazonian tribe smeared as porn addicts :: 2025-05-25 Hosts: Bonnie, Rich E Rich, Riley

Graham Hancock n allSupport the pod:www.patreon.com/monsterfuzz Check out our merch:https://monster-fuzz.creator-spring.com Everything else!www.linktr.ee/monsterfuzzBecome a supporter of this podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/monster-fuzz--4349429/support.

This episode is all about some of the most delicious, underrated, and shockingly powerful nuts out there.I talk about the surprising benefits of Brazil nuts, introducing a few you've probably never even heard of, like an Amazonian super nut… Plus, don't miss out on the buttery, decadent macadamia nut—loaded with a special Omega-7 fat that helps keep you full, regular, and glowing from the inside out.For full show notes and transcript: https://drgundry.com/healthiest-nutsThank you to our sponsors! Check them out: Visit Juvent.com/GUNDRY and use code GUNDRY at checkout to get an extra $300 off your Juvent Micro-Impact Platform.Get convenient, high-quality, and affordable groceries delivered with Thrive Market. Get $80 in free groceries at thrivemarket.com/gundrypodcast.Go to DrinkLMNT.com/GUNDRY and use promo code GUNDRY to get 8 single-serving packets with any LMNT order.For all your blue-light and EMF-blocking accessories, go to boncharge.com/GUNDRY and use the coupon code GUNDRY to save 15% off your entire order.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

They say Brazil is not for amateurs. And that's certainly true in the crime-stricken city of Manaus, where Wallace Souza – a charismatic TV host and congressman with a flair for the dramatic – built up an army of fans with his hard-hitting news coverage in the early 2000s. But was his bonkers daytime TV show, Canal Livre, just a smokescreen for his own shady criminal empire? And how far would Wallace go to increase his show's already killer ratings?Grab your bug spray and join us for another exciting filmed full episode, as we strap in for wild ride into the Amazonian urban jungle – and a story packed with samba, gangsters and conspiracy theories galore...Video version will be available Thursday 17th April on our YouTube channel!Exclusive bonus content:Wondery - Ad-free & ShortHandPatreon - Ad-free & Bonus EpisodesFollow us on social media:YouTubeTikTokInstagramVisit our website:WebsiteSources available on redhandedpodcast.comSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Following a crushing political defeat in 1913 former president Theodore Roosevelt turned to what soothed him the most - the wild and pushing his limits within it. Roosevelt is a complicated historical figure - one who is remembered in teddy bears, for his legacy of public land protection, as the country's youngest and most influential politician as well as a man who held racist ideals - but not many remember him as a man who lived for adventure and pioneering exploration. When the opportunity presented itself to participate in an expedition into untouched Amazonian jungle to map an unexplored river - he was willing to die for it. Listen to Watch Her Cook on Apple and Spotify! For the latest NPAD updates, group travel details, merch and more, follow us on npadpodcast.com and our socials at: Instagram: @nationalparkafterdark TikTok: @nationalparkafterdark Support the show by becoming an Outsider and receive ad free listening, bonus content and more on Patreon or Apple Podcasts. Want to see our faces? Catch full episodes on our YouTube Page! Thank you to the week's partners! IQBAR: Text PARK to 64000 to get 20% off all IQBAR products and free shipping. AG1: AG1 is offering new subscribers a FREE $76 gift when you sign up. You'll get a Welcome Kit, a bottle of D3K2 AND 5 free travel packs in your first box. So make sure to check out DrinkAG1.com/npad. Quince: Use our link to get free shipping and 365-day returns. Ollie: Use NPAD to get 60% off your first box of meals when you subscribe today. For a full list of our sources, visit npadpodcast.com/episodes

Dementia rates are skyrocketing, and cognitive decline is a growing concern. But what if you could actually grow a new brain? In this episode of The Dr. Hyman Show, I sit down with Alberto Villoldo, PhD, a medical anthropologist and shamanic healer (and author of Grow a New Brain), to explore the powerful intersection of ancient wisdom and cutting-edge neuroscience. In this eye-opening conversation, you'll discover: The Amazonian secret to protecting the brain from dementia and cognitive decline. How certain plant compounds can activate your body's natural detox and repair systems. The surprising role of gut health in brain regeneration—and how to reset your microbiome. Why serotonin depletion is wreaking havoc on mental health and how to restore balance. How shamanic healing and modern science align to create lasting cognitive health. Tune in to learn how you can take control of your brain health and unlock the potential for true regeneration. View Show Notes From This Episode Get Free Weekly Health Tips from Dr. Hyman Sign Up for Dr. Hyman's Weekly Longevity Journal This episode is brought to you by Big Bold Health, Timeline Nutrition, Paleovalley, and BonCharge. Receive 30% off Big Bold Health's Himalayan Tartary Buckwheat sprouted powder. Head to bigboldhealth.com and use code DRMARK30 at checkout.  Support essential mitochondrial health and save 10% on Mitopure. Visit timeline.com/drhyman to get 10% off today. Get nutrient-dense, whole foods. Head to paleovalley.com/hyman for 15% off your first purchase. Order BON CHARGE's Max Red Light Therapy device today and get 15% off. Visit boncharge.com and use code DRMARK.