There were times when they lay on couch cushions and pillows on Heather’s floor — in what was once their house — and times when they met the shaman in other places. It never mattered. For Meyer, it was about the depth of his dream. The dream showed him understanding. Like Heather almost has now. “It’s a beacon,” Meyer says. “But at the same time, it’s an inductive charge. A way of providing power without requiring them to keep that power source aboard.” He’s pointing. Heather sees the pyramid — common enough imagery for her in these dreams, which most of her mind is aware enough to know is floating through a haze of artificial reality — but this time something is different. She usually she goes where he leads her, but for Heather it’s always been like taking a tour with Meyer as the guide. For her, it has always been about a shared experience. She’d never say it in their usual version of reality, but in the ayahuasca dreams she used to feel that the places they went — or the places he went, while she tagged along — didn’t matter as long as they traveled as one.
